Runaway Train
by saunatonttu
Summary: His life is at a standstill, and he's content to let things go on as they are - but life is not as predictable as that, and Trafalgar Law finds himself getting more entangled with Donquixote Doflamingo than he ever wanted. Rated M for later chapters. DofLaw. AU.
1. neither here nor there

**A/N:** Okay, so this is the beginning of the extended version of the Time!universe, which first appears, well, in "Time". This first chapter has many elements from that, and certainly similar scenes, but I have also tweaked some small stuff to fit better for a beginning of a story.

I don't know, how often I'll be able to update, though; university and part-time job keep me busy, and my health hasn't been the best as of late. (The second chapter is in the works, now, so, uh. Yeah. Might take a while.)

I hope you'll enjoy this.

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><p><strong>Runaway Train<strong>

chapter I

_neither here nor there_

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><p>He was always cold these days.<p>

It didn't have anything to do with the temperature or the weather; he knew better than to even try to blame the weather for the shivers that went through him each morning.

The cold reached his bones, the icy touch a constant reminder of the destiny his life was heading toward, the cold prickling sometimes the only thing that convinced him he was still living and breathing.

This morning, too, was no different.

He opened his eyes without a warning, his awakening as silent and sudden as it always as. No matter whether he dreamed or not, had good or bad dreams, he never woke with a start or to his own screams.

He took a deep breath, slightly shaky, and swallowed, mouth dry like sandpaper. Inhale — exhale — he repeated both actions for a few long moments before shifting his head, glancing at the alarm clock resting on the nightstand beside his bed. Too few hours of sleep, again, he noted with clinical detachment as he slowly tried to pull himself up into a sitting position.

He felt the weight of another pull him down again, and he nearly staggered as he tried to untangle himself from the arms draped possessively over his waist.

The little warmth the other man had offered him dissipated quickly once he was up, but the cold didn't bother him as much as the warmth of the other's body did. Trafalgar Law shuddered, skin crawling as he went to search for his boxers. For the time being, that would be the only article of clothing he needed — if only for the sake of remote decency.

He found his pack of cigarette, slightly disgruntled to notice the cigarettes scattered on the floor, and lighter. Picking them up, he went to the balcony, ignoring the pains in his joints and spine and other, less honorable places.

He halted at the door, hoping sincerely the ugly creak that had rung through the air as he opened it hadn't woken the other man up. Doffy was rather annoying in the mornings; not that Law was any better with three hours of sleep.

The cold breeze ruffled his already messy hair into an even bigger mess as he stepped into the freezing cold balcony. Law ignored the prickling feeling in his toes, and lit a cigarette as he gazed down at the city opening before him from the angle of a fourth floor apartment in a city of pretenses. Dull gray eyes focused on nothing in particular while a thin steam of smoke rose to the sky as he exhaled.

Cars honked their horns below in the city, some teenagers smoked god knew what, and someone was getting murdered if the sounds were anything to go by. Law wasn't bothered by any of it — it was the usual way of life in this corrupt city.

His eyes eventually stopped to stare at the edge of the park that started a little ways from his apartment building, noticing a furry blur he assumed to be a cat moving swiftly down the park side of the street — towards the scene of whatever crime was taking place.

Law assumed it was a robbery gone wrong, considering the police sirens that increased in volume each moment.

He hadn't even considered the possibility of Doffy even waking up to the sounds despite him leaving the balcony door open. That man could sleep through a third world war if he so decided, and for most part that worked well enough for Law, though it was troublesome to unlatch himself from the man's arms the morning after whichever night Doffy decided to drop by.

What an inconvenient bastard.

The arms that wrapped around him startled Law, nearly making him drop the cigarette from between his fingers and down to the street below the railing.

"You're always such an early bird, Law. Do I need to start locking you up so you won't fly away one of these days?" voice, rough from sleep, whispered against Law's ear, making him shudder for a different reason than the chilliness of the morning.

It took Law a little too long to his own liking to come up with a reply as Doflamingo's (Doffy being the goofy, idiotic name the man insisted to be used in private) warmth radiated to Law's bare back. It didn't come as a surprise when Law realized Doflamingo wasn't wearing any underwear yet, and Law noticed this with clinical precision and without any remarkable emotion. If Doflamingo wanted to freeze his dick off, it wasn't any of Law's business.

"Not even a caged bird will ever truly belong to anyone," Law said, voice clipped as he cleared his throat. "You ought to realize that, or else you will be in for a disappointment, Doflamingo."

"You'd be surprised by how few people want to disappoint me," Doflamingo purred, amusement clear in his voice as his hand crept up Law's chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "And please, cease the formalities."

"I really wouldn't," Law said dryly, awkwardly shifting around to dump the cigarette. "And once out the bed, the nicknames stop. That's the deal, isn't it, Doflamingo?" he emphasized the name almost softly to bring up his point. The way Doffy's fingers curled to clutch at Law's chest didn't go unnoticed, and Law felt nearly satisfied for that that reaction alone.

"Deals are made to be broken."

"That one of your business mottoes?"

"How did you know?"

Law snorted and didn't bother to stop the other when Doflamingo's fingers snatched a cigarette from the case. "I'm not an idiot, regardless how naive you find me for my youth."

Doflamingo's shit-eating smile was audible in his voice. "Your backtalk, at least, is as cute as ever even when you're not."

"You wouldn't fuck _cute_ things."

"Ah, touché."

They lapsed into silence after that, and Law lit another cigarette for himself and then Doflamingo's as well. The blood-curling screeches down near the park had disappeared by now, along with the police sirens. The only sounds present were their breaths and the distant car honking. Law's eyes searched for anything else to stare at, but found nothing they weren't used to seeing — the once-beautiful arches of the bridge connecting eastern and western parts of the city, the top part of the university, the towers of the medieval castle the city was known for; none of this wasn't anything remarkable once a person's eyes had settled on them a thousand times before.

The only thing vaguely impressive — or rather, the only _person_ — was pressing himself against Law's back currently, and turning to stare at him would have been just… _incredibly_ humiliating. As if Doflamingo needed a bigger ego.

"If you want to smoke, you can do it elsewhere rather than next to my ear," Law eventually commented, a ring of smoke slowly rolling out from his lips.

"I was wondering when you were going to say that," Doflamingo laughed, pulling himself back and thus taking away the warmth from Law's back. Despicably enough, Law felt his back tingle with an unfamiliar, unsettling sensation, but he ignored the feeling like he ignored so many other things.

Doflamingo settled to lean onto the railing just like Law, looking at the scenery with interest appropriate for people that didn't see it too often. The ridiculously shaped shades made it impossible for Law to hazard a guess on what Doflamingo was thinking.

"You're going back to Dressrosa today?" Law inquired after a while after finishing the cigarette. "I'm not a good cook, but if you want to have something, I have some bread I really need to get rid of."

Doflamingo let out a barking laughter. "Should I have you taste it first in the case of cyanide, Law?"

Law's lips twitched. "That might be the smartest thing to do." He gave a shudder as he pushed himself back up. "I'm going inside anyway." He glanced down, noting that Doflamingo was, indeed, as naked as Law had assumed him to be. "Should I lock you out?"

Doflamingo snorted, quirking a brow at him. "If you wanna play games, Law, you'd better prepare yourself for the consequences."

"Yeah, yeah," Law tapped his foot on the balcony floor. "Get inside, it's freezing. And dump that fucking cigarette."

* * *

><p>It was still too early for Doflamingo to depart, and Law silently cursed that fact as the familiar morning restlessness came to him. He wasn't used to <em>guests<em>, no matter how many times Doflamingo came visit him, and Doflamingo could see it too if that amused smirk was anything to go by. _God, I hate you, but fuck if you're not good in bed._ Law instantly erased that thought.

Law scowled, but made no effort to usher the other away — at this point, it was a battle of wills that Law didn't want to lose.

Nonetheless, it felt pointless for Doflamingo to hang around. Law had no television or anything remarkable, asides from the medical books that decorated his bookshelves and which Doflamingo had noticed before much to Law's discontent.

"We could always go for a round two," Doflamingo broke the silence eventually, lips high up on his face and fingers idly playing with the feathers of the pink coat he wore no matter the day. Frankly, it was the most colorful thing Law had seen in years — Doflamingo himself, as well. The man was a colorful person, both literally and figuratively: a cocky attitude and a smile that should have broken that jaw, all combined with the clothes of each rainbow color, and that summed Donquixote Doflamingo up fairly well.

The biggest pain in the ass. Quite literally too, but _that_ was a little more pleasurable than _this._

"No," Law said strainedly, tugging at the collar of his shirt in disgust. He hadn't yet showered, and he felt disgusting, but he never took a shower before Doffy left. It was a rule he had made at some point. "I have places to be at today. I'd rather be able to _walk._"

In response to Doflamingo's ever-growing smile, Law quickly retorted, "That was not a compliment."

"Sounded like one to me."

"Well, it was _not—_ and as you can see, I can walk perfectly fine currently." Law's lips pulled into a tight but challenging smile whilst anxiety prickled at his insides.

Doflamingo just shrugged as he leaned back on the old, much used sofa, long legs crossed. Law could see, sadly, the bare shins and the leg hair.

When surrounded by dull black and white colors, Doflamingo's presence itself was much more pronounced. Perhaps that was what made Law feel so uneasy.

"Strip tease and prove that you're in control," Doflamingo mocked as he spread his arms over the back of the sofa, wiggling his fingers expectantly. "Come now, I don't have all day, Law."

"You do enjoy being proved wrong, don't you, Doffy?" Law murmured, giving into Doflamingo's attitude that contrasted his monochromatic world in too many ways for it to ever fit in.

Doffy tilted his head back. "As much as I enjoy the sass, less talk and more action, _boy_," he purred, wiggling his fingers invitingly.

Law smiled thinly. "Good things come to those who wait, Doffy."

Doflamingo's shit-eating grin now showed his sparkling white teeth, the smugness now radiating off of him. Nevertheless, Law's hands reached the hem of his own shirt, pulling it up and over his head.

Law tried very hard to forget that Doflamingo saw the white blotches that swirled and spread across his stomach and up to his chest, the pure white pronounced against the dark brown skin.

Luckily, Doflamingo could, if he so willed, make Law forget many things.

* * *

><p>It was 9.30 am when Doffy <em>finally<em> left, and by that time the anxiety inside Law had grown into a tight lump around his throat. Doffy had the tendency to fuck up his morning routines, which Law had grown accustomed to and even dependent upon, and this time had been no different.

Law scowled as he gathered the clothes scattered on the dirty white floor. He didn't bother putting them back on anymore, seeing how dirty they were and just went to throw them into the basket in which he kept dirty clothes. It was a fairly large one too — its height reached Law's elbows, and the diameter was somewhere between three or four basketballs — yet it was already three fourths full of the clothes Law had haphazardly thrown into it.

Law ignored the basket after that and instead went to take a bath; showers were quick and efficient, but baths helped to ease the soreness radiating off his limbs and joints.

The silence reigning after Doffy's — _Doflamingo's_, Law reminded himself — departure was deafening, and Law hated the blond for that, too: for disturbing him enough to make the silence anything less than comfortable.

Law leaned back in the tub and stopped to consider his daily plans. He hadn't eaten yet, but he only had shitty bread in the fridge. Maybe some pea soup if he was lucky — if not, that meant going out to shop and going _out_ meant… Law thoughtlessly rubbed at the side of his neck from the part he knew the blotches of white were slowly spreading.

His fingers couldn't feel any difference on the skin, but Law knew it to be there. He checked every morning — today he hadn't because of Doflamingo, but he would.

It was starting to spread faster, he had noticed a week or two before. Not much faster, but that kind of change was prone to be bad.

Even the relaxing effect the bath had on him didn't remove that truth from his mind.

His time was running out.

But not fast enough.

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><p>The pale gray scarf hid the patches of white on his neck and throat as Law sneaked down the stairs. The elevator had been broken for a long while, and no one had bothered to fix it — no matter, Law loathed the cramped space and the mirror on the back of the damn thing.<p>

The silence from his own apartment followed him down the stairs; his steps echoed off the cracked walls and those were the only sounds he heard.

Once outside, his world was filled with sound again; police sirens, sounds of foot steps, people cussing, cars, et cetera. All in all, everything was better off ignored; ignorance was a bliss in this city, which had once, ironically, been known as the City of Knowledge.

It was at the far end of the block, some ways from the building he lived in, where he met with his dealer.

The transaction was simple and efficient as always. Hand in cash, get the goods. Exchange one-word comments about the weather that seemed always to stay on the chilly side. Wave. Leave. That was pretty much the entirety of Law's social life during most days — well, whenever he didn't have any of the "good stuff" left. Which was most days.

Law stuffed the drugs into the bag he always carried with him — an old medical bag, inherited from his father — and shuffled slowly back home to get prepared for the day's work of cleaning toilets at a nearby gas station.

Well, he only needed to throw the bag back into his apartment, grab a sandwich (ew) _and_ cover the white spots on his neck with more than just a scarf, and then leave for the shift.

Before that, however, he quickly checked his messages when he had set the bag and its contents to the usual corner in his bedroom. He had been expecting Penguin to message him for a few days now — the only thing worth truly looking forward to in this hellhole.

Law smiled softly to himself when he saw that yeah, Penguin had messaged him — right around the time Doflamingo had left Law's apartment a little earlier.

_You haven't been around the usual sites for a while. You okay, Cap'n? _

Law's smile widened, if only a bit, at the message. He could always count on Penguin to make him feel better with only a few words. Maybe that was why the other was his (only) friend; Law hadn't felt so at ease talking to someone in a long time.

He quickly conjured up a some sort of reply to ease Penguin's worries before he'd head off to work, a slight smile lingering on his lips at the playful nickname Penguin had given him for one reason or another which Law didn't care for, but the affection attached to the name was something Law appreciated.

_Doflamingo visited me. No worries over here. Just the usual shit. You?_

Law put the phone back into his pocket, and went to work with a smile on his face for once.


	2. i need more dreams, less life

A/N: Here's another chapter; I'm usually slower at updating, but heh. Also, the chapters will get a bit longer after this one, I think, since these introductory chapters are over now with this. Woop.

Also, yeah, there's a reason this is an M-rated fic - dark themes, esp at this point. Drug abuse among others; if you don't want to read that, then this isn't the fic for you, I'm afraid.

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><p><strong>Runaway Train<strong>

chapter II

_i need more dreams, less life_

_._

_._

_._

Night had already crept into the city by the time Law was finished with his work — as simple as the job was, there _was_ a lot to clean, and sometimes his employer made Law clean the whole damn station instead of the toilets just because it saved him from having to hire extra hands or, God forbid, clean himself.

Law wasn't particularly peeved or hindered when that happened; his life didn't have much content anymore after he had quit medical school some years ago without graduating.

Sometimes he still wondered how different things could be if he had graduated.

What-ifs had never gotten him far, though, and that line of thought was always cut short.

And tonight, there was no room for what-ifs. Law tugged the collar of his jacket higher, self-conscious despite having covered the telltale white marks on his neck with a high-grade powder but one could never be too sure. Initially, he had even considered wearing a some sort of feather decoration on his neck, but then thought that a) it was too much like Doflamingo and b) too expensive for someone like him.

Now, though, with the darkness of the night around him and dim lights from the street lamps illuminating his way, he had very little to worry about. There _were_ people still out — for criminal business, most part, and there hung a silent promise to keep out of others' businesses as long as they stayed out of yours. Law knew the rules; he played by them too.

He felt his phone buzzing, and he idly picked it up from his pocket. One new message; not from Penguin, but from Donquixote Doflamingo instead.

The fact itself wasn't terribly shocking; Law had given his number to Doflaming the first time they had met — or rather the morning after their first meeting — for the sake of hooking up later whenever Doflamingo came around these parts of the world again.

At least sexual frustration wouldn't be much of a problem for Law, and an occasional fuck would get his mind off of everything.

Just one more thing to stop himself from thinking about how shitty his life had gotten in the past years.

_You know, you really would like it here in Dressrosa, Law,_ the message said, and Law felt himself jolt slightly at the suggestion clearly visible between the lines, nearly dropping the phone in the process. Law didn't reply to the message.

He hurried back home, his mood stained with something vague and uneasy; something that made Law's skin crawl.

He didn't realize how badly he was trembling before he closed the door behind himself. "Fuck," he cursed himself, wiping the sweat off his cheek, "_fuck._" Letting Doflamingo's message get the better of him was idiotic, _irrational_ even, but the way adrenaline worked its way through him said all about its effect.

Law dropped himself down to the sofa, buried his face into the arm, and closed his eyes as he slowly counted to twenty-six. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Law somehow made it to twenty-six without lapsing into a fit of anxiety.

Then he began counting again. One, two, three…

His phone vibrated again. Law willfully ignored it.

He distantly remembered the good stuff he had bought earlier in the day, and that was what got him pull himself up from the sofa once he finished the count. Screw Doflamingo for thinking it was fun to mess with Law like that.

(But sometimes the most light-hearted comments from the man held a very serious suggestion.)

As much as he loathed the White City and its inhabitants, he could not leave. He would not — even though he had nothing there: no medical degree, no passions to speak of, no friends or comrades that'd keep him sane.

But the past binds — Law could not escape from that.

Where would he run to with his illness anyway?

No hospital would ever treat him; everyone was too scared, too irrational to notice that the illness was not contagious. Just because Doflamingo seemed to realize it didn't mean the rest of the humanity would.

Law would be stuck in the White City until the day he died, and it was almost relieving to know that with absolute certainty.

Yet, he always got rattled when someone as much as implied that he should leave the City behind him; the very first time Penguin had suggested that, Law had lapsed into something close to a breakdown — Penguin had genuinely, explicitly planned out what they'd do if they met — and it had been difficult to remain as vague as Law portrayed himself as to Penguin, who had nevertheless realized that the suggestion hadn't been taken well.

Law staggered into his bedroom, the phone in his pocket vibrating again. Whoever that was could wait a fucking moment.

The bag was where he had left it — in the corner farthest from the sole square window, next to his bed — and Law tiptoed over to it in the dark room, the fluorescent lights from outside somewhat lighting his way.

Law roughly picked the bag up and emptied its contents — the drugs. Perhaps he should have felt ashamed to use his father's medical bag for something as dirty as _drugs _(that were not for medical purposes) but Law had stopped feeling guilty over the small things.

He opened the first small plastic bag that had dropped onto the bed, and picked up a small cube of sugar. He cursed himself, knowing he'd have to deal with his shitty mood for a while, but he popped the cube into his mouth.

And then another.

Then, on his third cube, he finally checked his phone for messages. It seemed strange for Doflamingo to send anything more than one message — if it had been him, these next two instances after the upsetting invitation — and Law grew calmer the more he chewed the sugar cubes. The _real_ effect wouldn't hit him just yet, but that was fine. He could check his email before his mind and basic perception would set off for a trip on their own.

His hands trembled. One-two-three-count-until-twenty-six…

Law took a deep breath, and tried again. Now he managed to click open the first message, the one that had been first to come after Doflamingo's, and it turned out to not be a message at all. It was actually a photo — from Doflamingo, Law noted dully — of a luxurious-sized bed. The lush _pinkness_ was a dead telltale sign of just whose bed it was, and Law furrowed his brow, hand clutching at the phone painfully hard.

That _ass._

Law squinted. There was a metallic gleam he thought he saw somewhere on the bed… Handcuffs?

As for the rest of the room, he couldn't see it fully from the angle the photo had been taken, but he could see half of a very pretentiously majestic marble statue, and it was enough to put Law off; he didn't need a reminder that he was basically _trash_ in the eyes of someone like Doflamingo.

Doflamingo _was_ a big enough an asshole to try to do just that.

The following message was, of course, from the rich bastard, too, and Law just rolled his eyes at how surprisingly talkative the other was this evening. Or maybe bored; it did take a couple days to reach Dressrosa from the White City.

_It's large enough for two, you know._

The invitation was much more explicit this time around, but this time it didn't throw him off like the first one had. That, and maybe the drugs slowly making their way through his system helped.

Law shifted on the bed, gingerly pushing the plastic bags aside and the medical one down, and leaned his back against the bed frame as he replied.

_What are you trying to accomplish with this, Doflamingo?_

Law's thumb hovered hesitantly over the phone screen before he eventually sent it, his mind reeling as he thought what Doflamingo's intentions were. He didn't know the man beyond their shared nights and occasional mornings, but what he knew for sure was that Doflamingo didn't do things out of selflessness. Even the initial hook-up had happened on Doflamingo's whim — he had been persistent, and Law had been mildly inebriated — and he had no doubt Doflamingo didn't continue these visits because of Law's wonderful character and knowledge in medicine (that he had never expressed explicitly but one look at his medicine textbooks was revealing enough).

As if to remind him, a dull ache throbbed up his backside. Law shifted a bit into a more comfortable position, head propped by the pillows as he slid down from the wooden frame.

Law didn't expect an immediate reply, not from that man, yet he got one only a few moments after sending the message.

_Show off my furnishing skills? _There was a some sort of emoticon following the not-really question, and Law felt his lips curl in sheer bemusement. At the same time he felt faintly light-headed; maybe the drugs were having an effect earlier than usual?

_I don't know how to break it to you, but the atrocity that is your bed is truly off-putting. _

Though it did look soft and welcoming in a way his own didn't, but hell if I Law needed another reason to want to get out of the City. Not that he felt that Doflamingo's bed was a reason enough to warrant that desire, that longing of—

_Don't,_ he chastised himself, running a hand through his messed-up hair that stuck out in most directions. _Don't start this shit, again._

He nearly jumped when the phone vibrated in his other hand, the one not stuck in the mop of dark and brittle hair, and again Law's suspicions were roused. Just why did Doflamingo feel like communicating with him more than the bare minimum today?

Law's eyes slid down halfway as he read the words. _Mocking my decorative sense now, Law? You're not that big a deal for your opinion to matter in this case. _

The phone slid from his hand without Law noticing the way his hold had slackened around the device. He didn't hear the soft thump the phone made once it hit the floor beside bed. Eyes slowly blinked, unseeing and unfocused, as Law curled into himself.

Yeah, he knew his opinion didn't matter — because _he_ didn't matter.

He wasn't upset by this fact. The only way he'd be upset was if it had been Penguin to tell him so; but it had only been Doflamingo, one of the only interruptions on Law's organized life, and Law wouldn't miss him when he was gone.

It was only sex, in the end; it wasn't even something Law particularly sought out usually.

Luckily, the familiar muddiness in his thought processes came to him soon; the much needed break in his constantly buzzing brain was much welcomed and needed. His lips curved upwards; the prickling cold he felt constantly turned into a pleasant, toe-curling warmth; the lights outside seemed brighter and more enticing.

Suddenly everything was so _laughable_ — what the fuck was the point in the shit he did? He wasn't the doctor he had aspired to be; fuck, he wasn't a doctor at _all._ He was stuck cleaning other people's shit up while covering the white spots that grew and grew on his body like goddamn mushrooms in a forest.

Law laughed out loud at the thought. Why did he _bother—_?

The nausea that had begun to curl inside him some time ago now tightened its grip inside his stomach, and Law gave a violent shudder that seemed to go through all the way from his head down to his toes.

Useless. Law's throat constricted around the lump that had formed there, another tremble starting from his neck downward. His life, what was there? What was he staying in this city for, where one slip-up would mean death?

The thought made his insides quiver as something unfamiliar rose up from within: shaking feeling of terror of realizing the uselessness of his own life. There was nothing he could do to stop the feeling from conquering him completely; it was a tsunami born from the suppressed and unacknowledged thoughts in Law's mind combined with the drugs.

The world made no sense.

Law himself made no sense to himself.

Penguin. He needed to call Penguin. Law made an effort to look for his phone, stumbling as the world blurred into a myriad of colors that made no sense to him.

He didn't realize he fell off the bed at some point; he didn't feel the crash when he met the floor. What he felt was the chilliness of the floor against his cheek and something wet on his face. What it was, he couldn't tell.

His eyelids drooped, and he stopped flailing indiscriminately, which he hadn't been aware of doing.

But he still couldn't sleep.

* * *

><p>He woke up at some point to his own heart trying to burst its way out of his chest.<p>

Thud-thud-thud — it was like a horse race, as loud and chaotic, and Law didn't know how to stop it. In the distant part of his muddled mind, his most clinic and sensible part, reminded him that he'd had drugs previously. The same part of himself reminded him that this had been one of his "bad trips".

He found it hard to get himself up from the floor, even though he was dying for some water. But he didn't get up; he just stayed still, limbs twitching mildly against his will, and his rationale disappeared within the coffin of his mind again. The light trickling into the room from outside through the balcony door made him flinch and close his eyes again.

The irrational need to hear Penguin's voice made him push himself up, eventually, and with a bit of luck, he found his phone only inches from himself. Shakily, Law reached for the phone. It took only two attempts before he got the phone properly into his hand, and a few more before he found Penguin's number.

He'd regret this later; Law never sought out support on his own, unless inebriated or high on something — like now.

It wasn't too surprising that when he heard the first rings from the other end, he immediately cut off, heart racing like a maniac running from the police.

Still on the floor, Law threw the phone over to his bed before pulling his legs and leaning down, forehead pressed against his knees and arms wrapped around his legs. He probably had work later, but he didn't care; the thought of work brought a spike of fear in his gut — the same fear that seeing the white spots dancing on his skin brought.

"_Shit_," that left his lips pretty much summed up his current life.


	3. break the rules between us

A/N: Happy DofLaw day! I sort of rushed this chapter because I wanted to publish this on the 26th, so here you go. Sort of smutt-y, naturally, hahahaa. See what I meant when I said the chapters would slowly get longer?

* * *

><p><strong>Runaway Train<strong>

chapter III

_break the rules between us_

* * *

><p>The next time Doflamingo came to visit, Law wasn't prepared. In fact, he hadn't even known that Doflamingo had come to the City that day; he hadn't even suspected it, since Doflamingo hadn't messaged him as he usually would — and it was too soon after their last rendezvous as only a few days had lapsed.<p>

He hadn't left his apartment in the meantime — or if he had, he didn't quite remember that. His perception of time had gone wonky, twisted until he had no idea what difference there was between day and night.

He'd managed to call in sick to work, apologizing as profusely as his monotone voice ever allowed him to, and gotten a few days off to get his shit together.

He hadn't prepared to meet anyone; he hadn't particularly desired to. He had turned his phone off; he hadn't turned his laptop on.

The silence was as blessed as it was a curse, since it gave Law enough room to survive — but also gave time to _think, _and thinking was the last thing Law ever wanted to allow himself to do these days.

He could find himself staring at the small book shelves in his bedroom, at the backs of his medical textbooks, and he'd be startled and disturbed enough to tear his gaze away for no apparent reason.

He forgot to eat. The question of hunger never even entered his mind. The issue of liquid was much more important, and he managed to take sips of water occasionally every few hours, but for most part it was like his mind didn't register the creeping hunger, thirst, or need for sleep.

The tick-tock sounds of the clock in his bedroom rang through his mind again and again.

And again.

Again.

_Again._

And he still lay on his bed, arms crossed over his knees that touched his chest, head nearly pressing against the knees as well. He breathed in and out, slowly and mechanically, and his mind was completely blank for the first time since forever.

In some vague place within himself, Law was thankful for the emptiness; sometimes it was better than feeling that what he was doing with his life was absolutely worthless.

The hollow void was better than the cage Law had set himself in after the incident six years ago; truly, this was even _progress_ if one wanted to look it that way!

Nevertheless, Law's sense were only starting to return to him when the doorbell rang and broke the self-induced mockery of peace Law had created for himself. The first ring only made him blink slowly, dazedly, but the second and the third one made his limbs twitch in effort to pull his body up from the bed.

Somehow, not even knowing how himself, Law managed to tiptoe over the shit that lay on the floor — he hadn't cleaned around just yet — and wandered to the door, but first checking the peephole to see his visitor. He _never_ had any visitors, so there could realistically only be one of the two: his dealer, or Doflamingo.

Neither were very desirable company at the moment.

One look through the peephole, and Law's vision was filled with pink. _Doflamingo,_ then.

Against his better judgment, he unlocked the door and cracked it open, peeking out warily. "What are you doing here?" His voice came out too softly, too raspily, and Law cleared his throat. "It's not that long since your last visit." Doflamingo's eyes were on him, Law felt them burn his skin, and it made his skin itch in many places, like unhealed rash.

Doflamingo tutted, some light reflecting off his shades as he shifted weight between his (longer than an actual flamingo's) legs. "Don't be cold now, Law. I just had to come back for a bit for recurring businesses, and decided to drop by." Doflamingo made a gesture of drinking something down with his hands. "I've been wanting to drink with you again, as well; it's been far too long." The smile was not only audible in Doflamingo's sugary but low voice but also visible in the wide curve of his lips.

Law's head felt like a mixture of fluff and lead at the same time; heavy and blank, thoughts scarce and in disarray. He made an effort to swallow, the dryness in his throat more pronounced now that Doflamingo mentioned that. He was suddenly aware of his hair sticking up chaotically, as well as his wrinkled clothes and dark rings beneath his eyes — well, _darker_ rings than usual, anyhow.

Why did this happen _now._

"I'm pretty busy, actually." Law clicked his tongue in false annoyance, trying to gather his thoughts. "I can't cater to your wishes every single time. Nor do I particularly want to." _Get a life_ were the words burning on the tip of his tongue, but he held them in, knowing it was a bad idea to piss Doflamingo off. Maybe even denying him was considered a bad idea, but Law didn't care.

He just wanted to lie down again and fucking sleep, not that sleep would come to him.

Dealing with this piece of art was not on his to-do list for the day — or the week — or the remainder of the month.

Doflamingo's eyebrows went up a little on his brow, as if something had provoked his curiosity. "Busy looking like you got fucked or ran over by a train," the blond laughed with some ill mirth in his tone. "Should I be jealous?"

"Don't," Law grunted, running a hand down his face. "Whatever. Just come in if you want, but…" he trailed off, glancing into the hallway. None of his neighbors had opened their doors to check out the situation. The walls were paper-thin, so he wouldn't have been surprised if they had heard the exchange.

Law sighed. "Just get in." He shuffled aside, opening the door wider and letting the tall man come in — Doflamingo had to _bend_ down a bit, that's how huge he was, and even _Law_ didn't have to do that — before closing the door again, the lock clicking shut with an eerie sense of finality.

"You didn't reply to my last few messages," Doflamingo suddenly commented airily, but there was something lying in the undertone that had Law's shoulders tense up. "It's almost like you don't want to keep in touch with me." Doflamingo's voice went even lower, an octave or two so, and even if Law felt messed up, he didn't miss the tone.

Law shrugged as he wandered to the small kitchen and opened the fridge for the first time in days. Some stuff had gotten nasty in that time, unsurprisingly. Law glared at the mold on a loaf of bread mildly and uncaringly. "I was under the assumption I didn't need to respond, since you were joking around." He looked up at Doflamingo who hovered near the sofa that separated kitchen and living room from one another. "I have some bread with mold on it, if you'd like," he suggested flatly.

Doflamingo laughed, the sound reverberating from deep within his throat and coming out in a low, throaty purr that worked miracles on people that were easily swayed. "It's always refreshing visiting you," the blond mused, clothes rustling as he took off his coat. "You and your apartment have their own charms." Well, at least Doflamingo left the topic go for now.

"So, you wanted me for my apartment. Should've known," Law deadpanned, but his lips curled in mild amusement as he shut the fridge door again and turned to face Doflamingo. The milk had gone bad, too, he was sure of it; but whatever. Small worries were best left for later, big worries for the moment.

(Literally _big_.)

Doflamingo came over to him in two swaying strides — ridiculous walking style, Law had always thought — and placed a hand behind Law's head. Law himself had gone stiff at this point, not entirely comfortable but also too tired to resist, and Doflamingo seemed all too willing to ignore this.

Doflamingo's thumb sat snugly on the side of his neck, somewhere near Law's pulse point, and Law quirked an eyebrow at the man with as much sass as he could muster, which was not a whole lot.

"I could afford to out you any day, if your apartment was all I wanted," Doflamingo said, and what he said was a simple truth. Law didn't doubt that, not even for a second; only rich people could afford to be so… eccentric. Law took a cautionary step backwards, Doflamingo following, the heat from his hand spreading up Law's blotched skin.

"Then what exactly is it that you want?" Law asked, back now against the fridge, the door handle digging into his back. Doflamingo's face loomed now closer, breath fanning at Law's face. For a moment, it stayed like that: Doflamingo breathing on his face, Law staying still as he had no place to move to, and the silent ticking of the clock audible over the silence.

Law exhaled, slowly, the pounding in his head intensifying.

Then Doflamingo's hand behind his neck moved — Law nearly flinched in anticipation for something violent, but the fingers merely caressed at the nape of his neck. Gingerly. _Too_ gingerly.

"Come with me to Dressrosa, Law."

There it was — the invitation Law had willfully ignored, the one which he had forgot with his drugs. Which still were somewhere in his bedroom.

The throbbing inside his head grew, but Law kept his face blank even as the handle poking at his back fucked up his back muscles further. "I'm quite content living here right now, Doflamingo," he said, eyebrows knitting together in mild show of confusion. His heart beat hard, too loudly, and too many times within the short span of silence. "No."

Doflamingo's fingers twitched once, twice, and Law half-expected them to curl and fingers to dig into his throat. Law smiled thinly, and the fingers halted.

"The white spots are spreading," Doflamingo muttered, half in wonder and half in… Law wasn't even sure what the other half of Doflamingo's tone was. "You could get actual treatment if you came with me, Law." The voice went back to smooth and persuasive low baritone, but Law only felt a prickle of anger in his chest — a prickle that soon formed into a pin cushion of anger.

But the anger was short-lived, as most of his emotional spikes were, if drug-induced paranoia was excluded.

"No," Law said with finality, head swimming as the previous wave of nausea came back. He took a breath. "If there was any way to treat it, I'd know. _Everyone_ here would, for that matter." Every person in the world probably would, in fact.

"With White City being as isolated as it is, I'd be surprised if even a rat would make it in, not to mention information," Doflamingo shrugged, never letting his hand fall from Law's neck, fingers resuming their petting motions. The smile, smug and mildly amused, never faltered. Doflamingo's index finger ran smoothly down the curve of his neck, probably feeling Law's pulse that seemed to have quickened considerably within the last moments.

Law's lips thinned, blood draining from his face. "Yet this city is hailed as one of the biggest concentrations of genius the world has ever seen," he said, voice monotonous as he contemplated whether it was possible to slide away from Doflamingo's clutches — or if he had the strength to try, rather, since Doflamingo wasn't exactly pinning him down. "You're underestimating the doctors around here. How stupid of you."

Doflamingo's free hand went to Law's cheek, and the shorter man couldn't help flinching this time as he pressed himself against the fridge a little more, Doflamingo leaning closer in response. "You mustn't underestimate my intelligence gathering, either, Law," Doflamingo purred, shades-covered eyes intently watching Law and his reactions. "_Come_ with me, Law." Doflamingo's lips hovered over Law's, way closer then a moment before, and Law didn't resist when the distance was closed between them.

The nausea didn't disappear; actually, it increased when Doflamingo's lips captured his and held them hostage, but Law was thankful. _This_ was a game he was better at playing; he wasn't a master of wit, not like this, and Doflamingo's sudden talkativeness had made him uneasy and anxious in a way he hadn't been before, not even during the mornings Doflamingo stayed longer then he was welcome to.

Law automatically brought his hands up to Doflamingo's sides, clutching the white dress shirt the other always wore when he came to visit. Lips entangled with each other, heads tilted for better angles, saliva gathered; everything was familiar by now, and Law willingly threw himself into the chaos. Even the fact that Doflamingo had to bend down slightly to kiss him didn't bother him; it was something he had adjusted to.

They shifted their arms so that Law's were now behind Doffy's neck, and Doffy's hands on Law's hips, fingers teasing the jeans Law had worn the past four days. (_Ew._)

Law's breath hitched, lips parting when Doffy's tongue requested it, and there was no going back now that Doffy's hands had started to wander. Law's hands, too, went from Doffy's neck to his chest, long fingers unbuttoning the white, creased shirt button by button. Doffy smiled approvingly against Law's lips, tongue already playing inside the other's mouth. Law's tongue pushed back, languid and inviting, touching the tip of Doffy's tongue before entangling with it further.

After one more push against the fridge by Doffy, Law realized that there was no way they'd be doing this _here_, in the kitchen part of his apartment, and so he turned his head aside, rasping out once their lips separated, "Bedroom."

Doffy's grin-smirk was the only response he got, and the only affirmation needed.

(Good, because the blond generally ruined everything when he talked.)

The trip to the bedroom wasn't long distance-wise, but it certainly was arduous, since Doffy was very intent on touching him everywhere, and a few times they bumped against a wall or even the couch they had once messed around on.

Doffy's dress shirt fell along the way, somewhere between the living room area and Law's bedroom door, just like Law's hoodie; Doffy's high heels had been left in the entrance hallway, and their socks had at some point slipped off, though Law couldn't pinpoint the exact time he had wriggled those off his feet.

It was good, this was good. This was how things should be. No thinking; no useless discussions; no life-evaluations by himself or Doflamingo.

Law tumbled over the scattered items on the floor of his bedroom — items he had thrown, items he had searched, items he had torn in his own madness — and pulled Doffy down with him when he fell to his bed. The mattress gave a warning squeak at the impact, but it was ignored as Doffy's hands tugged Law's shirt up, hands sliding and feeling up Law's whitened sides. White blotches had grown into rough-edged squares and broken patterns; week by week it had covered more and more of his skin.

Law squirmed mildly, the uneasiness of seeing the whiteness exposed as palpable as ever, silently urging Doffy to hurry up and to leave inspections for another time (which would never come). Indulgently, Doffy pulled the shirt off of Law, who lifted his arms up obediently, and then Doffy leaned down again, hands this time going down to Law's rear as his mouth pressed indulgent kisses up Law's stomach and chest. Teeth followed suit; Doffy tugged at certain places with his teeth, nibbling and nipping, and Law's back arched accordingly.

"The lube's in the usual place," Law breathed out, head twitching towards the nightstand, and Doffy acknowledged it with a grunt before biting down on Law's neck, which drew a sound from the usually well-composed man. The teeth lingered, nibbling and nipping, and Law groaned softly, encouraging Doffy further. He had never been very vocal in bed, but he knew Doffy liked to _hear_ him.

And the pain that edged between pleasure was enough an instigator, anyhow.

Doffy's hands busied themselves by undoing Law's belt, succeeding only after the second attempt, and tugging the tight pants off of Law's scrawny legs, and after freed, Law raised one of his legs and tapped at Doffy's belt with a toe, a wordless prompt for Doffy to remove it.

Things escalated quickly from there, much to Law's relief. The nausea that had previously been present had disappeared and replaced by the slowly burning heat of arousal; he knew how to work with that, how to deal with Doffy's erection, how to be both submissive and aggressive at right times.

He knew the feeling of fingers moving inside him better than he knew the feeling of Doffy's cock, but both were familiar, and it was enough; the feeling of Doffy's skin against his fingertips as his nails clawed into the other's back wasn't an ecstatic one, but it too was enough.

He was a wreck, and this didn't cure him — Doffy's strong thrusts, well-timed as they were, didn't make him scream and forget — but _it was enough_ for the time being.

Doffy did leave him breathless, though, and gasping, and he certainly gave Law distractions from his rather dull life scenery he had painted for himself. An escape from the blackness of his mind; that was what he had needed when he had first met Doffy in that bar a few months ago.

But Law never wanted a literal escape from the White City, no matter how shitty things turned.

And that was why the very suggestion pained him, somewhere deep inside that part of himself he had abandoned six years ago.

That was why he couldn't look at Doffy, when in the midst of it all, the blond whispered against the skin of Law's neck, mid-thrust, "My ship's leaving tomorrow morning. You should come."

Law jerked up slightly, but that must have been because of the thrust Doffy had completely. Definitely that, and not the words.

And when Doffy's finally finished — and Law realized that _fuck_ they had forgotten to use a condom; the realization disgusted him — and dick pulled out again, Law turned to his stomach and buried his head into one of the pillows, pretending to be worn-out. It didn't take much skill to pretend; he _was_ exhausted, though not enough to sleep yet.

Doflamingo's hand ran smoothly down his back, and Law turned his head slightly, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"You're still so tense, one might think you just didn't get laid," Doflamingo said, lips in a smug upturn. "You got your cigarettes somewhere?"

Law didn't bother with the first statement, and pointedly glanced at the balcony door.

"You and I," Doflamingo mused as he left for the balcony, "need to work on communication later."

Law shoved his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes, one distinct profanity directed at Doflamingo in mind as he flipped Doflamingo off, though the blond had already strutted to the balcony.

* * *

><p>At some point, Law had fallen asleep; it was surprising, but what was even more surprising was the time he woke up.<p>

It was an afternoon, by then; sunlight streamed through the glass door of the balcony, and Law squinted his eyes in confusion as he found the strength to pull himself up. What the— He remembered Doffy… no, _Doflamingo_ coming over late afternoon… the day before? Most likely.. What time was it now?

Law's head turned, lips forming a wince as his neck complained at the movement, toward the alarm clock. _2:36 pm._

Law stared at the clock for a long, long while, surprised by how long he had slept.

The second thought that emerged was — _huh, I'm chilly._ Which was normal, but… since Doflamingo was over… it wasn't.

"Doflamingo?" Law only now noticed that the only one on the bed was he himself. _Huh._ He blinked, but then— "_my ship's leaving tomorrow morning"_ — he remembered, and he fell back onto his mattress, ignoring the soft creak it made.

It was way past morning, now, so Doflamingo was long gone.

Law's lips twitched, either in annoyance or amazement at the fact that the pink-coated ass hadn't simply abducted him, seeing how someone with such a huge build had managed to a) get off the bed, b) gather his clothes and dress himself, and c) exit the apartment without waking Law up.

Apparently Law had been _very_ out of it.

The realization that Doflamingo was gone, though, was relieving, especially now that the memory of those words was stuck in Law's head. _Come with me,_ he had said, _to Dressrosa._

Law ran a hand over his eyes, the weariness coming back like a rising tide. Doflamingo was gone. Good riddance, but _god,_ Law was as lost as before, and perhaps even more now — now that he had one rope he could grab onto, one escape route.

Law rose, lifted his hand from his eyes, and went to balcony for a smoke. At least the self-assured fashionista has left the cigarettes behind.

He stayed on the balcony for at least an hour, his thoughts choking him like a rope wired around his neck.

It was raining — just like _back then…_


	4. where did the party go?

A/N: At this point, I wonder if this a little too much, but shit happens and Law's life is a Shit That Happens. But hey, we're starting... to slowly get to somewhere.

* * *

><p><strong>Runaway Train<strong>

chapter IV

_where did the party go?_

_._

_._

_._

"You're throwing a party, huh?" Law stifled a yawn as he rolled over onto his stomach, listening to Penguin's voice with a small smile stretching on his face. This was one of his better days; the burden seemed less heavy, the cuffs less tight around his wrists.

Yeah, it was a good day, and that was why he had even called Penguin, taking rare initiative in his only important friendship.

"_Yeah, me and Shachi, actually. Wish we knew more girls, to be honest, it'd be hell of a lot more fun that way." _

Law smiled at his pillow. "There will always be uninvited guests at parties, Penguin." Lying on his stomach was actually a shitty idea, so Law turned around again and ended up staring at his ceiling that looked like it had been put through World Wars I and II. Law was actually pretty sure the building _was_ old enough for that. "Maybe you'll luck out."

"_Mmm, there's that hope,"_ Penguin sighed wistfully, and Law reigned in the sigh he felt approaching. "_But you know, Cap'n…"_

"Don't call me that. I have never sailed in my entire life. Haven't even been on a row boat," Law said, mentally counting the cracks on the ceiling. One, two, three…

"_Cap'n,"_ Penguin insisted, and he sounded serious, which grabbed Law's attention again, "_it'd be great if you could come, too."_

Law's eyelids fluttered exactly six times before he replied. "You know it's impossible to get out of the City. Borders are tightly secured." That wasn't a lie, but Law knew he could probably get out if he bothered to plan it out. He was well aware of the weaknesses in the security of the city, and bribery at least would help — well, if one didn't have the Syndrome like he did, in which case a body check would end in a disaster.

But Law wasn't dumb, and he could come up with a plan with a decent chance for success.

Penguin just didn't need to know that.

"_Yeah, I know, just… it'd be great to see you face-to-face, man. Emails, text messages, and phone calls just aren't the same. Shachi thinks so, too, by the way, and he doesn't even know you as well as I do."_

Law wasn't sure whether to laugh or feel genuinely touched. "You've been telling him about me?" Maybe a little concerned, too; he loathed knowing that he was talked about.

"_Yeah, kinda. Shachi's my roommate, and stuff. He likes you, by the way. Thinks you sound like a guy with tons of tattoos up his arms, for some reason."_

Law laughed, the sound as foreign to his own ears as to everyone else's. "Wow. Sorry to disappoint, but I don't have tattoos. Only pierced ears." He did want to get tattoos, but there was no way he could reveal his skin to anyone without exposing himself. His fingers briefly went to touch the earrings he wore, and tried not to choke in the nostalgia he felt.

The earrings had been a gift from his father.

"_Ah, too bad." _Penguin actually sounded disappointed. "_I thought I had a badass for a friend for once."_

"You'll have to look elsewhere," Law murmured, the smile askew but wide on his face. "But really, I have to go. I have to go to work."

It wasn't a lie, but he just wanted to cut this conversation short now that the sentimental stuff had been brought up — he wasn't keen on dealing with or sharing his emotions.

"_Too bad."_ Penguin sounded mildly concerned, but Law knew Penguin wouldn't voice it. "_Well, talk to you soon, Cap'n."_

Law hung up first with no word of goodbye, as he always did with phone calls, and brought an arm over his face. Ugh. No one could ever shut up about wanting to meet him _outside_ the Ciry, even though they _knew_ it was impossible.

Law refused to believe he wanted to meet them just as badly.

He needed _no one._

He eventually dragged himself off the bed, changing clothes for the first time in forever (_ew_, said the part of him that was always ready for a surgery) and grabbing something to eat (for what felt like the first time in forever, too).

He ate quickly and efficiently, not leaving a piece behind before mechanically gathering his shit and going to work. Before that he had done everything he could do to hide the marks of whiteness that curled higher up his neck; the blotches that would make him a marked man and a target for prejudice and fear.

Just for the heck of it, he poured a bit of old scotch for himself and drank it in one go before leaving his apartment — at least something would keep his wits with him if shit got tough.

(People were condescending, and toilet cleaners were the perfect target.)

He went out to work, his head empty from all previous thoughts, and the solemn present filled his senses.

Dreams withered in the White City like flowers in autumn.

* * *

><p>He cursed when he checked his paycheck, and threw more than a few curses. How the hell was he supposed to pay his food, rent, <em>and<em> drugs with this? This was probably even _below_ the minimal wage, but fuck if he could do anything about it. He didn't have the money to go to court over his salary.

Fuck.

He was in deep shit _now. _Perhaps he could pull off a month without food?

Nah, very unlikely; unless Doflamingo came over feeling like treating Law to dinner every day, there was no way that'd be possible.

Giving up his drugs wouldn't be difficult, but the thought made him sneer nonetheless, since those were the only escape from reality he had.

And then there was the electricity bill.

Law felt like he was about to have a severe heartburn as he cradled his head and ignored the bills he had placed atop the table in front of the couch. It was nauseating to look at the small pile of paper that effectively threatened his sanity in more than one way.

If he was a doctor or a surgeon in this goddamn city, he'd be rolling in money instead of doing whatever the fuck he was doing to keep himself from lapsing into a fit.

Law kind of wished he could take up Penguin's offer of meeting up. He kind of liked the idea of living together with two guys and struggling together to live instead of struggling by himself — and the struggle by himself, well, he was losing that battle.

Sometimes Penguin would tell him little, nonsensical details of his and Shachi's life, and Law would listen, heart heavy and lips curled down.

_God, he wanted out of there._

Since when had he started to sound like the Little Mermaid?

(That had been Lamie's favourite movie, now that he thought about it. Now the heartburn was very close to happen.)

His head throbbed. Well, he might as well start looking for another job besides the barely-above-minimum-wage one.

* * *

><p>Job-hunting was… shitty, most of the time. Either you lacked experience necessary for it, or you just weren't suitable for their type of shit, or the interviewers just hated you enough to ignore your competence.<p>

Or maybe they just hated your looks.

Law was pretty sure his looks were at least a factor in all the rejections he had gotten so far (four), and he could understand that — he didn't have any formal clothes, he just had ripped jeans and hoodies and basic shirts, and not to mention he could never tidy his hair enough.

And, well, Law had to admit to himself on the night after the fourth rejection (and two weeks after the decision to go job-hunting): covering up the white blotches was tiring as hell, so after that he never really bothered to try anything more, so in the end he still looked like an unkempt, rebellious teenager, though his teen years were far behind him.

And, alright, maybe his attitude was shitty; he had never wanted to be anything other than a doctor, a surgeon, that the other jobs seemed very much _not_ worthwhile, like pigeon shit compared to onigiri.

Law frowned at himself as he lay on his couch, arm swung over to cover his face as he tried to breathe. One-two-three count all the way to twenty-six.

Later on, he didn't quite remember the moment he decided that it'd be best to start drinking vodka and whiskey one after another, but the fact was that he did start drinking — he had used up his drugs, hadn't bought more yet, and while he wasn't addicted, he _wanted_ that pleasuring high — and at some point things went downhill.

Well, lower downhill than before.

It took a couple of mixed shots, and Law's head was spinning and his lips twisted into a grimace, which was directed at his own life and the alcohol, and tears prickled at the corners of his pale yellow eyes.

A shot later, the tears escaped — and if he hadn't been drunk, he never would have cried, he never ever would have started mouthing words that he thought up next.

"Dad…" he spoke out loud, voice shaking and the words slurring, "…what should I do, Dad…"

His throat constricted as he choked on air, and he tried to slam a hand over his eyes to control the tears. Drunkenly, he merely swatted his cheek, and his eyes squeezed shut as he breathed hard. A memory of his father's face hovered behind his closed eyelids, as clear as a day, and Law wanted— he wanted—

"Help me, Dad…"

The memories screamed louder inside his head: Lamie, mother, father…

The Syndrome.

The Incident Six Years Ago.

His father's smiling face — his _words_ to Law that morning — "_You'll make a great surgeon if you believe in yourself, young man." — _everything mushed together inside Law's buzzed mind, and Law just _needed_ them, so fucking bad that it made his breath stutter and eyes wetter.

He hadn't needed them in a long, long while as much and desperately as now as he lay there on his couch, drunk off his ass, the pile of bills as threatening as ever on the table along with the bottles of vodka and whiskey he had spared for a special occasion. And, hell, this was special — it wasn't every day that he was truly sure he had fucked up his life for good.

It wasn't every day that he _cared_ about fucking up his life.

"I'm sorry," Law muttered, his breath hitching, "I'm sorry, Dad. I never did become a surgeon like you…" His shoulders shook, lips trembles, hands around the shot glass quivered as he tipped it to his lips and swallowed the liquid down.

The burn the strong whiskey left behind was bittersweet.

* * *

><p>He woke up in his own vomit.<p>

At least he hadn't shat his pants, which had actually happened once when he had drunk way over his already respectable limit.

Still, waking up to find out that he had vomited all over himself _and_ the couch was disgusting, and Law wrinkled his nose. His pants were wet — and on the floor, not on him.

…What?

The light that trickled into the room made his eyes hurt, so he squinted them shut for a while, trying not to breathe in the nauseating scent of vomit that was, probably, mostly just stomach acids since he couldn't remember eating anything the day before.

He remembered nothing. Absolutely nothing.

And he knew it was better off that way; he knew himself and knew there was a chance that his walls had crumbled down. It was best to not remember. Just rebuild the shattered wall and move on — that was the way he kept on going.

He pulled himself up with some effort, taking off his vomit-covered hoodie, and threw it off without caring where it'd land. Tidiness? What did that even matter anymore? It wasn't worth much when he was still trying to find a way to cover all his expenses that he couldn't live without.

He ran a hand over his face, up to his messy, sweaty hair, and tried to think. What next?

Next… a glass of water. Definitely. A _big_ glass of water. A jug of water, even.

Never before had a glass of water sounded so tempting as it did now, and so Law stood up to his trembling legs that ached from being bent in an uncomfortable position for several hours.

He often had bad ideas, sometimes _terrible _ideas, and rarely ideas so awful that jumping off into the river that went through the White City seemed preferable to those.

This one was definitely the last kind of an idea.

His vision blurred — a white kind of static filled his vision — and his legs trembled as he took a few steps toward the door. The static grew stronger, along with the buzzing sensation in his head, and his legs gave out just like that. Law fell face-first, but he didn't feel the impact.

He just lay there for a good while, muscles quivering beneath his skin as though he was having a seizure.

He relearned to breathe.

He relearned the feeling of the floor against his naked skin.

He relearned the art of dimming his thoughts until there were none; the most precious lesson of all.

In the midst of his hangover-induced enlightenment, Law heard the ring tone of his phone ring out, and it was loud and disruptive in the silence, but Law didn't want to move. He didn't feel like moving from this spot ever, actually.

He could just die there, and he'd be content… more content than in a while, probably…

The damn ring tone still refused to stop ringing. The caller must be damn insistent on getting hold of Law. The man grunted, forcing himself to slowly crawl to the phone that was… on the floor next to his soaked pants. (Still no idea how that had happened, to be honest. Maybe that was for the better.)

Law brought the phone to his ear.

"Who's this?" he asked, rudely, and his throat feeling like he had stuffed a lot of sandpaper there recently.

"_Good morning, sunshine." _

Oh. Fuck no. Just when Law had been free from this asshole for the past two weeks during his job hunt… of course Doflamingo had to call _now._ Law groaned, a little too loudly, and Doflamingo heard it too.

"_Sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, fufufu."_

Law felt his stomach acids act up again. He closed his eyes, willing this moment to go away. "I woke up on the couch, actually," he admitted reluctantly, somehow pulling himself into a sitting position by wriggling his legs and back artistically, one hand supporting him by sticking to the cold floor. "So yes, I am not in the mood, Doflamingo."

"_Again with that name. And couch? Did your bed finally give in after my last visit?"_

"Wouldn't you like to know."

The struggle was real with Doflamingo — the struggle of trying not to smash anything into pieces out of sheer frustration. Law inhaled. _That's just your hangover talking,_ he reminded himself. _It's not worth the agitation._

"_I always did like mysteries. Should I come over to solve this one?"_

"That was not smooth at all." The nausea made Law halt his words for the sake of breathing in a few deep breaths. To Doflamingo, it probably sounded like Law was panicking. "And no. I don't want to deal with you."

"_You're peevish when you're hungover, Law."_ The smile was very much audible over the phone, and Law nearly retched at the sickly sweet tone. "_It's kind of cute."_

"You know I'm hungover, so you know _why_ I don't want you here," Law ignored Doflamingo's comment for most part. "Now, leave me alone."

At this point, he did actually retch on the floor. Law's head throbbed much harder as a result, and he closed his eyes again, not bothering to clean his mouth yet.

"_Oh, that was a bad one. Sounds like you had a party without me."_

"Definitely. It was amazing," Law said flatly.

"_Now, that's a way to make me jealous."_

"A 26-year-old near jobless, soon-to-be homeless guy drinking himself into oblivion is always worth jealousy, indeed," Law snapped before controlling his sharp tongue. He shakily stood up and evaded the pool of vomit, staggering to his bedroom and completely forgetting the glass of water he had meant to get for himself.

"_Sounds like a party I'd have loved to witness," _Doflamingo purred. "_I could have convinced you to come here last night. What a bad timing I have."_

"Your timing has always been awful. For me. Why are you even calling at this time of day?"

"_It's three in the afternoon." _Doflamingo was right. Law confirmed this with his alarm clock. "_Can't I call the best hook-up I've had in a while? I care for my people."_

"I am not one of your people," Law retorted, and okay, he was moody and he was feeling spiteful, and _why hadn't he hung up on Doffy yet._ "I'll never be."

"_It's a matter of time, and only that, fufu. In the meanwhile, I'm taking you out tonight."_

"What."

"_I'll pick you up at seven. Try to clean yourself by that time, Law. As fine as you are, vomit does take the edge off of your… charm."_

"Doffy, I'm not going anywhere tonight."

"_See you!"_

Click.

The bastard had hung up on him — which Law should have done at the very beginning of the conversation!

Law fucking hated this man.


	5. i keep runnin'

A/N: WHOO. I did promise to update this during the weekend. Hella. I succeeded. From now on, updates might be more scarce - I have a lot of shit on my plate now (university, mainly) and it's honestly stressing me out. Also NaNoWriMo. Why am I doing this to myself. (Good news tho? My NaNoWriMo project is _another_ DofLaw fic, which will be published some time in December, when I get around to editing it.)

In the meanwhile, enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Runaway Train<strong>

chapter V

_i keep runnin'_

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><p>A hot shower cleared his head somewhat.<p>

As the hot water poured down on him, Law kept his eyes closed, supporting himself by pressing hands against the wall to brace himself for the waves of dizziness he knew would come.

Not only because of the hangover, but also from the fact that Doflamingo was coming, and while he had never been afraid of the man, he _was_ afraid of showing his weaknesses around the man that was practically the epitome of power and success — and Law was reluctant to acknowledge this.

But hangover always did help him accept things as they were.

Even the inevitability of Doflamingo coming over was easier to accept, but that wasn't actually a problem — Law had his job to attend to, and as long as he left a message for Doflamingo, the man wouldn't think he ran. Because Trafalgar Law didn't _run_ from things. Never.

(_Liar_, he could hear his mind piping up with a voice like Lamie's.)

Only from the most important things.

Law inhaled and exhaled a couple times more before turning the water off, now pleasantly clean. The smell of vomit was gone, too, and he felt just a tiny bit better because of it.

Waltzing through his apartment with a towel snugly wrapped around his waist, Law went to his bedroom and opened his wardrobe, only to discover that he had a very small number of clean clothes left in there. Enough for now, but he realized he'd have to actually wash his clothes soon. Another thing he had been needing to do, but never found the strength to actually accomplish.

Law pulled out a hoodie, an undershirt, pants, socks and underwear, pulling each of them on with ridiculous care as he glanced at his phone for time. Three hours until the time Doffy— no, _Doflamingo_ had indicated.

His shift would start at six. It was now four. Well, twenty past four, actually, Law realized distantly. He might as well try make something to eat before leaving the monochromatic apartment. But before that, he couldn't help himself and went to his nightstand, opening the drawer and picking up a single photograph he kept hidden there.

He hadn't looked at it in a while, and why he did now was a mystery even to himself — but the need to see their faces, if only on a photo, poked at him from deep.

He took a deep breath and sat down on his bed before inspecting the photograph in his (trembling) hands. It had been taken on Law's 20th birthday, Law himself was on it too — without a stubble, and with far less white on himself — and Lamie's arm draped over his shoulder as the girl (she had been _seventeen_) grinned, her smile more radiant than the sun itself. Their parents were at their sides, father at Law's left and mother at Lamie's right — and they, too, smiled like they couldn't be happier.

It had been early October, just a few days before The Incident, and Law had been told he could get his Bachelor's Degree early, hence the celebration and big smiles on everyone's faces.

Even Law was smiling on the photo, and looking at it now made him feel alienated — weirded out that he had once been able to smile like that without anything restricting or caging him from expressing his feelings.

Another big difference: his body was clear from white spots; they wouldn't appear on his skin until months after The Incident, and by then Law had already started to expect them.

Law's lips widened into a mirthless smile as his fingertips touched the outlines of his family in the picture, the gloss surface of the photograph smooth as fingertips wandered.

A sense of heaviness settled inside his stomach, like a lead weight, and his lips parted open.

"I never did fulfill all of your expectations of me," he murmured, half-lidded eyes gazing down at the faces of the people dearest to him. "I apologize."

He put the photo back into the drawer again soon after uttering those words, fingers curling and uncurling as they no longer held the photo. He hadn't lingered to mull over his emotions, his memories, in a while, and in a way he felt like he was betraying them. Like how he betrayed his father by dropping out of university once the white spots started to bloom on his skin.

Law took a deep breath in again. The train of sentimentality wasn't his to catch now. He had work to do, Doflamingo to avoid, and a life to repair into something with fewer holes in it.

It'd all work so much better if he didn't have a hangover from hell.

* * *

><p>It was past five when he escaped his apartment — knowing that it smelt horrible, but <em>what a perfect gift<em> it was for Doflamingo if he even bothered breaking into Law's apartment when no one would open the door — and rushed down the stairs like he was running away from his worst nightmare.

He slowed his pace once he exited the building, chest heaving with the effort to breathe, and he paused to smoke a cigarette at one of the alleys he used as shortcuts to reach the gas station. He hadn't smoked in what felt like forever, though he doubted that even twenty hours had passed since the last cancer stick. Now, after a long drag, he didn't feel any better, but he would, eventually, when the evening would progress and Doflamingo would get the hell out of his city again.

The sun was already starting to set in the horizon, and the warm orange rays settled over the city, showing just how much in disrepair the City truly was. The rays peeked into the alley, as well, but Law didn't bother looking around. He was pretty darn used to this scenery already, and not even the golden rays of the sun could make him care about it — nor anyone else.

He dumped the cigarette pretty quickly once the nausea raised its ugly head again, and he stomped it down on the pavement unnecessarily harshly.

"You're in a bad mood today, fufufu."

Law unwittingly froze on the spot, his feet still on the cigarette. "What are you— You said you'd pick me up at seven." He sounded weak to his own wears, and he now remembered he still hadn't drunk that glass of water. _You're an idiot, Trafalgar D. Water Law._

Doflamingo leaned against the dirty white brick wall, the pink feathers glowing as the stray rays of sunlight hit them from random angles. It was like a bad romance movie, and Law wrinkled his nose in distaste both at Doflamingo and the simile.

"I got the feeling you'd stand me up if I didn't stretch the truth a little." Doflamingo's grin curled and widened on the man's face as he straightened himself and wobbled over to Law in his peculiar walking style.

_Waddled _was the proper verb, perhaps.

Law hadn't moved an inch, which he now regretted as Doflamingo towered over him. "And see, I was right," Doflamingo cooed, and the sound was disturbing when combined with Doflamingo's low voice, as his hand reached to cup the side of Law's neck. Law expertly sidestepped and evaded the hand.

"I didn't get the chance to mention — I have work tonight. In an hour." He glanced at his phone. "Less than an hour, actually."

"You could have messaged me," Doflamingo tutted, "your excuse is very bad, Law."

Law glanced around them. The alley was narrow and darkened the deeper towards the inner city it went. Some dumpsters were in the distance, barely within eyesight even in the orange sunlight. The chances of him getting away were, honestly, pretty slim, unless Doflamingo was as big a klutz as the wobbly walking suggested.

"I can do what I want. And I do have work, though I neglected to tell you." _Not everyone can sail to whatever places they want whenever they please._

"Working with that hangover sounds like a bitch to me, honestly," Doflamingo shrugged, shoving his hands into his coat's pocket as he hovered above Law some more. "Besides — why turn down dinner when you get the chance to eat for free?"

Unfortunately, that _did_ sway Law's determination a little bit.

"And also," Doflamingo hummed condescendingly, hand shooting out to caress the side of Law's neck, "you forgot to hide the spots."

Law froze again, his breath sticking to his throat as his own hands went to try his neck, fingers rubbing and trying to feel if he had any foundation on his skin. No. There was not — and he could feel the roughness of the white blotch, very much like an annoying rash that just begged him to scratch more of it.

"So," Doflamingo smiled winningly, knowing victory was inevitable, "you can't exactly show up for work now."

Law's shoulders slumped and he pushed the other's hand off as he covered the pale spots on his neck, nails digging into the skin as his fingers curled instinctively — as if trying to tear out the sick from his skin, but failing inevitably. Law closed his eyes, brow twitching with annoyance and — to Doflamingo's glee — anxiety.

"…So, dinner?" Law eventually drawled out as his lips thinned into a line. "I hope you realize I can't do that either, now—"

"No, no," Doflamingo shook his head, arm draping around Law's tense shoulder and pulling the other along. "I'm inviting you to my ship. I have mentioned it before in passing, no?"

Law wanted to throw up, and not even because of the hangover. "You're an ass. If I hadn't forgotten to cover up, I wouldn't—"

"You would," Doflamingo answered with all the confidence in the world, "I would make sure you would."

And the scary part was that Law didn't doubt Doflamingo's statement — not for one moment.

* * *

><p>The prize for most ridiculous and attention-seeking ship went definitely to Doflamingo's, Law mused to himself as he held the feather coat around himself tightly. Conveniently, it covered the dancing spots of white on his neck, hence why Doflamingo had offered it to Law when they had begun their arduous way back to the harbor.<p>

Doflamingo didn't seem to mind Law wearing his coat — in fact, he seemed to snicker about it under his breath whenever Doflamingo's gaze would, inevitably, trail to Law to make sure he was still by his side.

Law couldn't blame the man for that. He would bail and run if he _could_.

"So, who else is there?" he asked, sighing at himself. "I doubt you alone would come on that ship."

"Ah, just a few members of my family. You'll _love_ them."

Law doubted that, he _seriously_ doubted that, but what piqued his curiosity was… "Family?"

The chilling breeze didn't feel cold at all when he was buried under the heavy coat, though Law was used to cold and not this suffocating warmth that now enveloped him in a choke hold.

"Underlings, if you prefer," Doflamingo grinned, the smile wide and revealing a bit too much teeth, "but family to me."

Law didn't question that, and merely huddled beneath the feathery fashion disaster. It was nearly winter by now; in fact, it looked like it could snow any day now. More white to cover the White City. Law found some humor in the thought.

It took about half an hour to get to the harbor using shortcuts Doflamingo knew even without Law's help — which was surprising since _Law_ was the one living in the damn city — and they found themselves staring up at a majestic ship that was situated alone further at the dock than other ships. Law wasn't sure what _that_ meant, exactly, but what he did know was that Doflamingo was just as ridiculous as he had previously thought.

The ship's figurehead was a goddamn _flamingo, _and if that wasn't enough, Law saw flamingo wings on both sides of the ship, as if the ship was trying to take off into the air. Maybe _that_ was why the ship was so far from the others — the wings took so much space they'd crash with other ships if they went closer.

He wanted to comment on the ridiculousness of the ship, but he found that he had no time as someone was already rushing to greet them.

"Young Master," that someone breathed heavily, "we were wondering where you went—" Then they noticed Law, and he was greeted by dark, thick-lashed eyes and a picture-perfect face. "…this is?"

Doflamingo laughed. "I told Diamante I went out, didn't he tell you that, Baby 5?"

'Baby 5' seemed to be more preoccupied by Law, who still held Doflamingo's coat around himself like a safety blanket — which started to feel stupid by now, but… his neck…

"But you didn't have any business partners waiting for you today, young master, so I wondered…" Baby 5 hummed, her hand sweeping some of her hair off her face and tucked the black curls behind her ear. "He?" she asked from Doflamingo, her eyes not moving from Law.

Law's jaw clenched. "I'm an acquaintance," he said slowly, emphasizing the last word while glancing Doffy from the corner of his eye.

"Almost family," Doflamingo corrected, laughter bubbling into his voice as he gestured for all of them to board the ship again. "I went to pick him up."

"Oh." Baby 5's lips curled into a small 'o' before curling into a devilish smile. "He's rather handsome, young master, don't you think I could—"

"No. Not this one."

Baby 5's lips curled into a pout this time. "You always keep me from my happiness," she accused Doflamingo, and Law followed the exchange with mild amazement since he hadn't thought anyone would actually stand up to a man like him. Himself excluded because, well, he had no reason to fear Doffy yet.

Doflamingo laughed, an arm slung over Law's coat-covered shoulders. "No, no, Baby 5. It's just that this one is mine." The following silence was broken only by the sounds waves coming from the river.

Law should have said something, then. He _should_ have, because his silence would later be interpreted as agreement.

He especially should have said something as Baby 5's cheeks flushed in embarrassment and she uttered a simple, "Oh my."

* * *

><p>He had to give up the coat once they went into the ship, and this only made Law's nausea grow stronger, especially once it became clear that the ship had a full crew — which meant too many people and too many chances for the white spots on his skin to be noticed.<p>

Law tried not to fidget, but his anxiety was obvious as he didn't leave Doflamingo's side since the moment they boarded the ship, even though that meant lots of uncomfortable chit-chats with Doflamingo's crew — or 'family' as the man himself had affectionately called them.

"Relax, Law," Doffy murmured into his ear at some point, fingers discreetly rubbing at Law's neck with what seemed to be genuine affection. "You look like you're about to be thrown to the sharks."

Law felt the warmth of the fingers linger on his skin, perhaps for the purpose of offering comfort, and for once he didn't push the touch away.

"I don't want the marks to be seen," he said lowly, barely loud enough for Doffy to hear over the sounds in the dining room — it couldn't be called a galley, not really; it was a huge room, very decorous, and it was like Titanic. Ominous simile, but accurate nevertheless.

Doffy's fingers trailed up his neck, up the pulse point, and played with Law's skin, even though they were in the middle of a meal with Doffy's family. If they noticed the exchange, they at least made no comment on it and kept on their nonsensical chit-chats about whatever they had going on in their lives that Law didn't know or care about.

Doflamingo was seated at the end of the table, naturally, but he had brought Law to his side, which was as attention-grabbing as setting the pink-feathered coat _on fire_ would be, which Law had considered a few times already.

Nevertheless, he didn't make an effort to stop Doffy's touches, since they worked as a decent enough a distraction from the long glances Doffy's crew gave him from time to time, especially Baby 5, who seemed put off by something every time their eyes met.

"The Syndrome is old news," Doffy murmured into his ear in low laughter, breath tickling Law's cheek. "If you're so worried, we can always takes this to my quarters instead."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Law said coolly as he pointedly chewed on a piece of chicken. "I'm only here for dinner, and after that…" After that it'd be dark enough for him to go back home and try to come up with a reason believable enough for missing his shift without a warning beforehand.

"Yes, after that," Doffy murmured, more to himself than to Law and uncurled his fingers from Law's neck. Instead, the hand went down to pat Law on the knee. "We'll see what happens then, Law."

All in all, the dinner was pleasant. Comfortable, even, despite the family throwing Law occasional looks, though most seemed to be of 'ah, so that's what Doffy prefers these days' rather than 'get off the ship, you leper', and Law relaxed as dinner dragged on, even accepting a bit of red wine when offered. ("Dressrosa's finest," Doffy had told him with an indulgent grin.)

No one made a comment on the white that rose to the side of his neck, not yet his face but close, and Law sincerely hoped it was because no one saw them, but he wasn't delusional enough to hold onto that hope.

Nevertheless, he found out that he had good time with Doffy's family, and he even smiled back at Baby 5 when she leaned over to speak to him — somehow she had ended up sitting nearby, though she didn't seem to be high-rank in whatever family Doffy led — and things led to the point where Law was almost glad he hadn't ran off.

Maybe it was the wine.

He found out this wasn't the full size of the Donquixote family; there were others waiting them back in Dressrosa — someone called Corazon, someone called Buffalo, as well as Trébol and Sugar and a few other names Law didn't bother memorizing as they held no importance to him or his future.

He wasn't surprised. Doffy seemed to attract people to his side; he had charisma, he had _money, _and the latter was probably the most significant part of it all.

When the dinner ended, and the family retreated into their own quarters or went to do something Law had no idea of, Law wriggled around in attempt to shake Doffy's arm off of his waist. "I should go."

"Hmhm," Doffy hummed, arm pulling Law closer, much closer, until Law tumbled onto his lap.

"I'm serious," Law sighed, but made no move to leave.

"One last drink with me?" Doffy sounded like he was pouting now, but Law couldn't see his face as it was buried into Law's neck.

It must have been the wine, because Law laughed at the tone of Doffy's voice. It must have been, because Law _never_ laughed a genuine laugh these days anymore.

"You drive a hard bargain, Doffy. But fine."

Which led them to Doffy's quarters, which were as luxurious as Law had expected from a man as flamboyant as Doflamingo, but Law didn't stop to admire the decorations or the colors that threatened to blind his eyes that were used to the shades of black, white, and gray.

"It was nice, wasn't it, Law?" Doffy questioned, leaning back on a richly cushioned couch as he sipped his wine and glanced at Law from the corner of his eye.

Law nodded, a small half-sincere smile on his lips as he tasted the wine, not at all leaning toward Doffy's warmth. "I have no complaints so far," he murmured, just barely keeping himself from yawning. Perhaps it was due to the first full meal he had had in a while, but he was exhausted, and the physical exhaustion reached all the way down to his bones, or so it felt like.

"Doffy," Law continued, brow creasing with mild worry, "you don't think they saw, do you?"

"Oh, they saw."

Law nearly jumped, head whipping around to look at Doffy with wide, near fearful eyes.

Doffy laughed, set the wine glass down, and cupped Law's neck with his hand, feeling the shiver that ran through Law due to the contact. "We've seen all kinds of shit before," he said, smile crooked on his face as he watched Law's expression twitching between neutrality and anxiety. "One kid with a seemingly terminal illness that makes his skin look like Snow White's isn't anything to be afraid of."

While saying this, Doffy lifted his hand slightly, his thumb now caressing Law's cheekbone. "It' all relative, in the end, Law."

Law's eyes narrowed into slits, warning flashing in the pale yellow depths, but Doffy ignored it as he leaned down to press a kiss to the side of Law's mouth.

Surprisingly, Law pulled him back in when Doffy had been about lean away again, this time for a kiss full on the lips, and the glass of wine fell from his hands as they went to grip Doffy's shoulders. The mess was promptly ignored, as was the shattering of the glass.

"Even if it's not a big deal," Law muttered against Doffy's lips, the taste of wine filling his mouth, "it's something these people would kill for."

"There's always a reason for that," Doffy laughed breathlessly, "that won't change. People kill what they fear and hate; it's the law of the mankind." Suddenly, Doffy's smile faded as he kissed Law again, hands tight against Law's hips.

"But even if you become what they fear, there's no reason for you to die for them."

Law sucked in a breath, but Doffy didn't let him respond — instead, the man dove in for another kiss, a much hungrier and deeper one than before.


	6. ready, aim, fire

A/N: Still pretty busy, but have this.

* * *

><p><strong>Runaway Train<strong>

chapter VI

_ready, aim, fire_

* * *

><p>"You should come with me, you know."<p>

"You're getting very repetitive, Doffy," Law mumbled as he sleepily buried his cheek into one of the big, fat pillows on Doffy's bed. "Don't ruin the moment."

Doflamingo laughed mildly, nose nuzzling against the top of Law's head. Good. _Breathe in the hair,_ Law thought wearily but non-vindictively.

"I only say it so much because I do want you to come with me," Doffy said as his hand trailed up Law's bare side. In the dark, the white blotches were impossible to notice, but easy to feel as the white left a roughness on his skin that normally wouldn't be there.

"I don't trust anyone who says that kind of thing after sex," Law grumbled, "or at any point, actually."

"Yet you have stopped using my full name," Doffy commented, his voice a low drawl as his hand rubbed at Law's side. "Does that speak of your trust or your forgetfulness, I wonder."

"Maybe it was an argument I grew weary of," Law retorted, ignoring Doffy's lips that now went down his neck, teeth barely grazing the skin. "Don't think too much of it." Law flinched when Doffy's teeth sunk into his neck — not painfully hard, but the earlier bites had left his neck and shoulders aching pleasantly — and he curled his fingers around the corner of the pillow beneath his cheek.

"You're a liar," Doffy murmured between nibbling on Law's skin, ignoring and not even flinching at the white spots that plagued Law's neck as much as the rest of his body. "And not a very good one, at that. It's disappointing, almost."

Doffy's hand moved down to Law's hip, palm moving in circular motions, and Law nearly sighed in content. If nothing else, Doffy's hands were _good _at unclenching Law's tensed muscles. Law didn't bother saying anything when the hand wandered to his lower stomach, fingers inching closer to Law's half-hard cock.

"Just because you're a lie detector doesn't make everyone automatically a bad liar," Law whispered back just as Doffy's hand cupped his groin, thumb trailing down the length.

"Perhaps," Doffy indulged, "but it's easy to tell when a man's life is built on lies and when a man is living true to themselves." The thick fingers wrapped around Law's cock, the tips of them rubbing at the underside languidly. Law's toes curled instinctively at the feeling.

"You think I'm lying to myself?" Law mumbled, voice half-muffled as his head pressed deeper into the pillow while his fingers gripped the corner.

"Does it matter what I _think_?" Doffy laughed, his voice much, _much_ lower now and his breath tickled at Law's skin, sending goosebumps down the younger man's neck. "We both know it to be true." His hand caressed Law's cock, slowly stroking the tender skin.

"You talk too much," Law scowled, his breath hitching in his throat when Doffy squeezed him just right.

"And you too little," Doffy laughed, nose poking at Law's cheek before he leaned down to press a feather-light kiss to his cheek. "Does suffocating your true self do that, or were you always like that?"

Law didn't respond to that; he knew he was being baited to say something he wouldn't usually say. Instead, he concentrated on the feeling of Doffy's rough hand sliding down his cock. Up and down, at a slow pace; Doffy's favorite method of torture.

Law breathed in and out along with the strokes, the familiar heat on his cock comforting in some way. This he could deal with. This he actually _liked_ on some level, despite sex only being a way out of the suffocating cage of his own mind.

"Doffy," he groaned, voice barely above a whisper, "faster."

"There's a magic word," Doffy murmured sickeningly sweetly, his hand stopping at the tip of Law's hardened length. A thumb rubbed at the tip sensually slowly, massaging the spot that would have driven anyone mad. It drove Law a little mad too; surprisingly, since Law didn't have much sexual drive most days.

"Don't play that game with me," Law gasped, breathing heavily through his mouth as Doflamingo's thumb pressed down on him.

"Nothing shameful in admitting what you want, Law," Doffy said, grinning and running a tongue over Law's neck. "You're sweating just from this; how unusual — or did the last round finally loosen you up?"

Law's jaw clenched, but he couldn't deny the wave of heat that had come over him. Did he want this? Yes, yes, he did — more than he had in their previous meetings, and that itself bothered him; for Doflamingo to get him like this was just…

"Don't fight it," Doffy's voice murmured to his ear, as Doffy's cock pressed against the back of Law's thigh. Doflaming's free hand was at Law's chest, fingers caressing at a random white round, rough-edged spot.

"I…" Law's voice failed him. "Doffy…"

"That's it, Law." Doffy's voice ignited something deep within Law, something he didn't understand.

Law gave in. "Please," he grumbled, reluctance dripping into the word like poison as his hips twitched impatiently.

He didn't need to see Doffy's face to know the man was grinning from ear to ear; he could feel the smile pressing against his neck when Doffy's hand continued to undo Law little by little, one stroke at a time.

He couldn't deny it: he felt the safest here, tangled with Doffy, the other's heat pressing down on him and unwilling to let him escape its clutches.

The heat inside him swirled and curled, and Law bucked his hips more than once toward Doffy's touch, his head leaning to Doffy's chest at some point as he wheezed for air.

He wanted— he wanted to—

Before too long — before Law had the chance to experience the full height of climax — Doffy pulled himself up, hands helping Law's lower half up with him, and after a thorough preparation with fresh lemon-scented lube, Doffy entered Law again, sliding into him with more ease than at the first time that evening.

"Haa—" Law breathed out, chest heaving with the effort as Doffy first shifted inside him, the movement awkward and a bit too much. "D-doffy…"

"At ease, Law," Doffy murmured, hands steadying Law by gripping his hips. "You'll feel real good again soon enough."

"Big words from a big man," Law grumbled, his chest heaving as he laughed dryly and glanced at Doffy over his shoulder. "Live up to them."

"I fully intend to," Doffy laughed, the sound genuinely pleasant to Law's ears for once.

As for his promise, indeed, Doffy kept it: while Law was used to rough rides with Doffy, this time was surprisingly gentle and slow-paced, but by no means was it not satisfying. Despite the position — Doffy taking him from behind — there was no humiliation involved, and Law appreciated that with low sounds of pleasure that escaped his mouth.

He was a quiet partner, but Doffy caught each sound and acted accordingly to them.

It was threateningly intimate, their sex this time. It wasn't about getting off — and while it still _was_ about forgetting and escaping from unnecessary thoughts for Law, he couldn't disconnect himself from the moment as he usually might. He felt the movements within him, he felt his own pleasure spiking, and he wanted… He _wanted._

The feeling was soft but intense, and he felt it tingle his spine, his skin, as Doffy fucked him, touched him, _whispered_ nonsensical things Law wouldn't remember later.

_That_ was strange, too: usually these sessions were wordless affairs.

Nevertheless, this time he was allowed to have his climax; he came hard with a visible shudder shivering up his spine, and he fell onto the mattress completely, with Doffy on top of his back still.

They remained silent, both still catching their breaths, the warmth between their naked bodies not entirely stifling.

It was Law who spoke first.

"I don't believe in anything," he said slowly, deliberately, without looking at Doffy, a soft emphasis placed on the last word, and even with the breathless quality of his voice, the words packed an impact.

Law's eyes remained closed as he buried his head into the pillow, worn-out and still coming back from the height of his climax. "This won't change anything."

Doflamingo said nothing for a long while, but eventually he moved from Law, pulling himself out from the other, and slid aside as he wrapped his arms around Law. "Not believing in anything is as painful as believing in everything," Doflamingo muttered, and there was a definite edge to his voice that Law didn't like.

"Be that is it may," Law said, brushing his fingers over Doffy's arms, "it's how I am."

Doffy didn't comment, but he did turn Law around with a few swift movements of his arms, now facing Law. In the near darkness, Law could still tell Doffy had his shades on. He also felt Doffy's gaze on him — the burning intensity of that look made his skin tingle.

"I did not take you as a loser, Law." Doflamingo's voice was controlled, distant now. "What I see in you — _what I have seen in you so far — _is someone who knows the shitty side of life. You know the darkness of this world. In that aspect—" Doflamingo's lips turned into a mirthless grin, which was audible in his voice. "—we are alike." The hand on Law's cheek went down, to his neck, and felt around the pulse point.

"You're not supposed to submerge yourself into that darkness, Law," Doflamingo growled, and there was deep-rooted anger that Law was sure wasn't directed at him — perhaps Doflamingo himself…? "What exactly are you running away from?"

"I'm not running—"

"But you are, Law," Doflamingo's voice was now velvet-soft, dangerously so. "I have seen it; you're only indulging yourself with me — again, we are similar in this way — and it's an escapade for you. You try so hard, and get so far, but in the end, you're only running away from facing something. But _what_ is it that you ignore so much?"

Law didn't say anything. There wasn't much to say — and no matter how he tried, he couldn't muster the energy to get angry at Doflamingo's words, no matter how accusing and accurate they may have been.

They held the truth, after all.

And perhaps, _perhaps_ Law was afraid of losing the one escapade he had in his hands — namely, Doflamingo.

Doflamingo's voice changed again — back into the low smoothness. "You've gotta learn to let it go, Law. Self-destruction isn't a pretty thing — I'd really hate if someone like you went to waste like that."

"Did you just quote Frozen?"

Doffy's laughter made Law nearly smile despite the ache Doffy's words had left inside his heart.

(The truth hurt, especially now that he had let his walls down, even if only for one evening.)

"No, but I can tell you watched the movie now. I guess I know what to do on our next date, then," Doffy murmured, engaging Law's lips for another kiss as his hand held Law's head firmly in place. Law did very little to resist the kiss — nothing at all, actually, as he simply gave in to Doflamingo's affections.

Beneath the surface of loving gestures and the warth of the afterglow, there was something brewing inside Law. Something waiting to burst out.

But it would take a few more hours before Law would recognize that feeling.

* * *

><p>"You're going?"<p>

Baby 5's voice halted him, and Law turned his head slightly to regard the young woman descending to the dock where Law already stood, smoking one last cigarette before he'd drag his ass back to his apartment.

"Yeah," Law replied simply. "No reason for me to stay. You're setting sail in the morning?"

Baby 5 shook her head, her lovely black curls swaying with the movement as she came to him. "We're staying for a couple of days. Big business transactions. Corazon's coming over tomorrow… well, later today."

_Corazon._ Law had heard that name earlier in the evening… one of the big shots in Doflamingo's 'family'.

"I see."

Baby 5 looked at him, curiosity flickering in her gaze as she too lit a cigarette. "You coming to visit young master again while he's around?"

Law exhaled a puff of smoke. While he wanted to give a negative answer to her question, there was a growing part of him that wanted to come, regardless of the risks. He slowly shook his head, ignoring that part of himself. "I don't think so."

"Did you not enjoy yourself?" Baby 5 seemed oddly agitated by the negative answer she received, and her hand played agitated with the ends of her hair. "You seemed like you had fun, is all," she added, more calmly, and took a drag, a puff of smoke leaving her mouth afterward.

Law glanced away. "I'm not a people person," he offered, though it was not a direct answer to her question, which he honestly wasn't sure how to answer. And, well, honesty wasn't… one of his best-known traits, like Doflamingo himself had implied only a while ago. The memory gnawed at a tender spot inside Law. "It was pleasant enough. Thank you," he added in a murmur when Baby 5 remained silent in the still night.

"Young master seemed happy to have you around."

"Isn't he happy regardless of my presence?" Law's lips tilted into a smile, sharp-edged like his voice.

Baby 5 snorted and patted Law's shoulder in an exaggerated manner, leaning closer to him despite the tension radiating off of him. "You wouldn't know that, Law," she murmured, her voice dropping low as she breathed out the words that made Law's stomach clench and ache. "He gets rather irritable when he talks about you sometimes, but that's not really his usual anger. I think." Baby 5's lips curled in disgust. "Not the kind that drives him to force my fiances to break off engagements."

Law blinked slowly at the last statement. "He does that?" The topic might have been touched upon the dinner, but honestly, Doflamingo had preoccupied Law most of it, so Law wasn't quite sure about some of the topics that had danced around the table that evening.

"More than he has any right to." Baby 5's scowl deepened, her teeth gnawing on the cigarette before she tossed and stomped on it with a firm foot. She inhaled, exhaling sharply a moment afterward — a heavy sigh that promised more words.

"Look," Law said, rubbing at the side of his neck in attempt to appear casual, "I just want to get home for tonight. I'll catch you later if I feel like it."

"It's two in the morning, you might as well stay," Baby 5 argued, but withdrew herself away from him and shrugged her petite shoulders like she didn't care whether he'd stay or not.

He left without another word.

* * *

><p>"Look, something came up," Law muttered into his phone, pinching at the bridge of his nose as a headache rumbled inside his head. "I didn't get the chance to let you know, but things are fine now, I swear."<p>

His employer didn't sound convinced, and Law's teeth gnawed at his lip anxiously. He couldn't lose this job. No way. How would he _live—_

("You're not really living, so what does losing that crappy job mean anyway?" he could imagine Doflamingo saying, and _fuck_ if Doflamingo wasn't right.)

"This is just one-time deal, I promise, it won't again." Law hated begging, he wouldn't do it if it wasn't absolutely necessary, and he could only hope his employer was sensible enough to—

"_No. I won't deal with the likes of you anymore, Trafalgar."_

"Haven't I always done a good job— You can't seriously fire me for _one_ mistake!" Anger mixed with anxiety brought an acidic taste to his mouth, and he clenched hist jaw, cracking his unoccupied hand's joints as to keep himself calm.

"_This isn't just one-time deal, Law. You're done."_

Law stayed still, phone pressed against his ear, even long after his former employer had hung up on him.

It wasn't that he was shocked, actually; he knew the man's rules, and he knew the trigger had been ready to be pulled for a long time now.

But that didn't mean Law didn't feel like he had been thrown into a black abyss just then, left without an escape, abandoned by everything that had carried him this far after his family had been killed six years ago.

And yet, there was one rope that could lead him to safety.

The one that he kept brushing aside like it was nothing more than a simple plaything, an amusement for idle nights.

Doflamingo.

* * *

><p><em>Self-destruction isn't a pretty thing.<em>

Doflamingo's words had hit him hard, and they kept replaying in his mind over and over again as he sat there on his couch, head buried into his hands as he tried to think of a plan for the future.

(A part of him said — _there is no plan, not anymore. Death is calling. Why not answer?_)

His thoughts ran in circles without reaching a conclusion, and the more he thought, the more his heart ached for the freedom Doflamingo had offered him.

Freedom from the clutches of the White City and its corrupted doctors, police, and government.

_Lamie, _he wondered as he closed his eyes, _would you tell me to go if you were here?_

She would. She had been a stubborn young woman that could push Law to the ends of his wit and patience, and at the same time she had been the most caring person Law had ever had the chance of knowing.

_Lamie…_

* * *

><p>He had been more distraught then he had thought upon leaving his apartment, apparently, and now he cursed himself for his thoughtlessness as his fingers self-consciously scratched at the itchy white spots on his neck.<p>

But it was an evening by now, again, and the streetlamps offered only dim light to the alleys Law frequented, and that was the tonight as well as he sneaked through the narrow streets towards the docks at the river.

He could hear the sirens from police cars pass him by in the distance, and his heart picked up its pace — flashes of white-spotted bodies riddled with bullets going through his mind — as the familiar fear rushed through his veins, as though he was still stuck on that day as a scared twenty-year-old coming back from evening lecture, only to hear and see the massacre executed by the police force.

He never saw the bodies of his family, but when none of them returned, he knew.

Law inhaled sharply, shaking his head as the memories swam too close to the front of his mind.

"Law?" the hoarse voice startled Law, and he nearly jumped into the nearest dumpster out of the fright the sudden, out-of-nowhere voice had given him. Slowly, he tilted his head, eyes wide, and—

"Oh," Law licked at his lower lip, hands clenching at his side as he realized it was his dealer. "What a coincidence."

"Haven't seen you around in a while, Trafalgar," the man's lips curved into a tired smile, eyes crinkling. "What have you been up to, man?"

The dim lights fell on Law from the most displeasing angle, and Law had no way to shift his arm up to cover his neck without seeming suspicious. Now what to do — any half-hearted strategies wouldn't get him out of this mess just yet.

His heart rate skyrocketed.

"The usual," Law shrugged his shoulders minimally, his lips thinning as cold sweat formed on the back of his neck and palms. "Job. Internet forums."

It was concerning to realize that _that_ was his whole life summed up, and again — Doflamingo's point was proven further.

The dealer, his face partially covered by a beanie, chuckled, waving a hand. "Same here, dude. Look, I just got this real good package of some new stuff, if you wanna try—"

The pause that followed had Law on guard immediately, especially as the tired, dull blue eyes widened as they stared at Law. "Trafalgar, what's that on your neck?"

Law's breath halted.


	7. whatever works

**A/N: **This was a bit hurried in the end, because I didn't want to wait for another day or two before getting to this. (Work keeps me busy, sigh.)

* * *

><p><strong>Runaway Train<strong>

_chapter 7_

whatever works

* * *

><p>Doflamingo leaned his cheek against the back of his hand as he watched the river through the window. The water glittered beneath the dim light that came from the docks, but overall, darkness had conquered the day by now.<p>

His face held no smile this time, perhaps because of the person his thoughts centered around.

Trafalgar Law, the young man he had encountered at a bar all those months ago… the one that made adrenaline rush through Doflamingo's veins a little quicker every time.

"Tch," Doflamingo made a sound of annoyance as the feeling of Law's skin beneath his fingers came to mind. As absent as Law sometimes seemed to be — detached, lonely, _isolated — _there were times when the flame of life flickered in Law's eyes, and Doflamingo found himself deeply enthralled.

Maybe collecting the strays of this world was a bad habit, but Doflamingo couldn't help himself — Baby 5, Buffalo, Trébol, every single one of them — and that was the case with Law as well.

Or… a little different, Doflamingo acknowledged as he absentmindedly ran his fingers down the most sensitive part of his skin. This greed that burned in his stomach was familiar, and Doflamingo liked to indulge himself as much as he could — it was too bad Law wasn't as willing to indulge either one of them.

But the look on Law's face the previous day had been promising; it wouldn't take long until Law would crack… or not _much_ at least. Doflamingo's lips twitched into a smile even as he let out a throaty gasp, eyelids fluttering behind the shades he still wore.

If Law agreed, then Doflamingo would never have to bother coming here himself again. Never, ever again. That thought was comforting; Doflamingo hated this city, though he doubted his feeling matched that of Law's in intensity.

He sensed that hatred that crawled beneath Law's skin; he felt it every time Law's nails dug into him with desperation. Law never cried, nor complained, but inwardly, some part of Law was screaming and struggling.

That part was growing weaker — and Doflamingo tried to keep it alive.

Even if it meant pushing Law too hard and way too far. Sometimes someone as stubborn as Law needed all the possible nudges a person could give before he would relent.

Like hell he'd let _Law_ of all people slip away from his grasp — from his life.

.

.

.

Law's heart thumped inside his chest like the hooves of race horses against the track ground, and for a moment he wasn't sure whether his ribs could handle the pounding against them.

A cold fear clawed at him, the memories from six years ago returning to him. The news broadcast — the shootings — _the sick people that had been killed, slaughtered for the sake of getting rid of the Syndrome._

He'd be killed, too. He'd be put down like a dog without any mercy — and while Law wasn't too keen on living, he wanted his death to happen on his own terms, not by others'.

"You're just imagining things," Law said, voice gruff and mouth dry, and he tried not to swallow. His hand at his side twitched, the urge to cover his neck strong enough to make him restless. He was terrified, and the trauma from back then… "Must be the weird lightning."

"No, dude, I swear that looks like," the dealer frowned, "just like that one thing from a couple years ago… what was that…"

"You're imagining things," Law said more forcefully, stepping forward and patting the man on the shoulder. Thank god white hadn't spread to his hands yet, or else this might be harder.

"Yeah, guess so," the dealer muttered, but the wrinkle between his eyebrows told Law everything he needed to know. He was out of time. He had run out of it this very instant, and _fuck, _he might… he might have to concede to Doflamingo's suggestion, after all. Law clenched his jaw at the thought. He was out of precious time. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that he could live in the White City any longer.

"See you later," Law mumbled back as he passed his drug dealer, ignoring the gaze he felt burning on his neck, the eyes that tried to locate the white spots on his neck. Heart pounding, Law kept on walking with an even pace, his steps echoing down the alley.

He knew Diez wasn't leaving — he didn't hear the footsteps — and so he kept the space at what it was until he was far enough, a few blocks from the dealer, and only then he dared to slow down and exhaled.

Shit. Shitshishit—

Law pulled his sleeves up and inspected the white marks curling down his arms, almost reaching his wrists now, and he felt a little more nauseous. The white was very glaring in the dim light of the night-time.

Then, he pulled out his phone as he hurried his steps towards the docks, fingers quickly dialing the number he had called occasionally when the need to talk had been strong.

His heart refused to calm down even when Penguin picked up a few moments later. "…_Cap'n?"_

Law glanced around the darkness, willfully ignoring the way every one of hs limbs quivered from the previous fright. "Penguin," he breathed out as he rounded a corner, pressing himself against the stone-cold wall as equally cold sweat trickled down his neck. "I need… help."

Penguin seemed to realize something was up, not only from Law's words but also from his tone of voice — Law was usually composed, almost uncaring with his speech, and now the perpetual calmness had been shaken.

"_This is something serious, isn't it,"_ Penguin concluded, voice dropping low, and judging from the background sounds, Penguin had been out somewhere. Law bit on his lip, anxiety and fear in his stomach like a lead weight. The fear of being found out — the fear of someone discovering his disease — it had all grown into a monster during these years, from the moment Law had first discovered white spots on his skin two months after his family's deaths.

(He was a realist — there was no way they were still alive.)

"Yes," Law said slowly, "I need to get away from the City."

Penguin's sudden intake of breath said more than words ever could about how surprised he was to hear Law say such a thing, and Law's lips twitched mildly at that, almost but not quite laughing.

"…_How soon?"_ Penguin, at least, had the sense to not ask stupid questions like "what happened" and "are you alright".

"As soon as possible," Law murmured. "Tonight, if possible, but you don't live that close, so…"

"_So, it IS an emergency, after all. Fuck."_ Penguin remained silent for a few good moments. "_Isn't there any way you could get out of there on your own and I'd come pick you up outside the City?"_

"Yeah, that's what I thought about doing." The sewer system was an extensive one, perhaps that way… Law wrinkled his nose in disgust, though he knew that might very well be the only way for him to escape the hell that was about to be set loose. "There's a small town about five miles out of the City; you think you can make it there?"

"_Yeah, no problem. I've been there before with Shachi before I got to know you. I'll check when the train leaves for the place, and I'll let you know when I'm going, okay?"_

"That's good," Law whispered, heart leaping again when he heard footsteps coming his way. "But I have to go now. Talk to you later, Penguin."

"_Wha— wait—"_ Law hung up without another word, sucking in a quick breath and slowly sneaking further into the pitch-black alley where no artificial light reached. He stayed still, listening to the heavy footsteps that came closer and closer, and Law's heart beat along to the rhythm of the steps.

The paranoia of the prey had kept him alive so far; doing everything he could to hide the marks on his skin, he had managed to survive in the environment where spots of white were a crime worse than murder.

The footsteps stopped, and Law could _hear_ the person's breathing — in response, he withheld his own breaths as he ignored the clammy feeling in his palms.

A bright light emerged in the midst of the darkness, and Law tensed up. A lighter, he figured, and he was right: the person he was staring sideways had lit a cigarette.

Then came the waiting game Law hated, but it was cut off by shouts from a distance.

"—the Syndrome! Can't believe there was someone we missed those years ago—"

"—a drug dealer notified us—"

"—to be killed on sight!"

The shouts startled the person Law kept an eye on, and for a brief moment, the lit cigarette showed the person's face — covered in heavy make-up, it was quite a sight — and Law exhaled a little too loudly.

"…" The feet now shuffled towards him, and Law cursed himself as every fiber of his being told him to run off and _fast— _but where to? There were others looking for him already: one misstep, and he'd be a goner.

Law regretted, he regretted…

A hand closed in around his wrist, and he was tugged roughly forward to face the smoker, whose face was inteed quite the colorful canvas of make-up — three triangle-shaped marks beneath one eye, eyeliner, and lipstick that reminder Law distinctly of Heath Ledger's Joker, and that made the man much creepier, though Law had dealt with a few shady personalities before too.

The man hovered over Law — much like Doflamingo did, but Doflamingo was an inch or three more intimidating — and looked down at him, eyes narrow as if searching for something on Law's face. Then his eyes settled on Law's neck, and with the light from the moon and the cigarette, the white shapes were visible. Law stiffened some more; this was Bad with a capital B.

The man looked at him thouhgtfully, dim blue eyes evaluating Law in a manner that only made the silence more stifling.

"This is some mistake," Law managed, his eyes caught by the blue ones. Inexpressive and small, there was nothing special about those eyes, but Law got the odd sense of… familiarity? Or perhaps it was the blond hair that peeked out underneath the woolen hat the silent man wore.

Never uttering a word, the man slowly let go of Law and gestured Law to follow him with a single finger wriggle. Law scoffed. He wasn't a _fool_ — and he wasn't that _trusting,_ either.

But what choice did he have? He could hear the shouts, he could hear the deafening sounds of police sirens echo in the distance.

He followed the stranger in silence — fuck, this was such a bad idea, following someone he had never met before or didn't know through someone — heart beating loudly against his ribs as the whole city bustled into life to catch the diseased man.

It was only when they passed through a full-lit street in a hurry that Law noticed the man's coat — black feathers covered it completely, and it blended into Law's black-and-white world completely, but Law had another epiphany.

_Could he be…?_

The hope was frustrating, but Law explained it away with his own current situation. Any connection to Doflaming would be relieving under these circumstances, he thought as he sneaked after the other, staring at the broad shoulders that hid Law behind them when they got too close to the crowded areas.

Doflamingo's ship was most likely the only reasonable way to escape now, he realized grimly. Escaping to the sewers now would be discovered — perhaps people were already looking into the pipes — and Law's lips curled into a self-loathing snarl.

.

.

.

Doflamingo had just taken a long, luxurious bath, when Baby 5 peeked into his quarters after knocking softly on the door the usual five times.

"What?" the man questioned, lifting an eyebrow at Baby 5's flustered expression. _Please don't let it be ANOTHER groom,_ he thought to himself as his lips curved into a disapproving frown.

She hesitated, her fingers anxiously tugging at her dark curls. "Corazon came back."

"Oh, he finished his job, then?" Doflamingo's lips stretched into an easy smile at the thought of his brother. "He went to get the money before coming here, since he's this late… go figure."

"He brought Law with him."

Doflamingo's face froze momentarily at the mention of Law's name. True, he had perhaps expected Law to pop up that day, but… "Corazon brought Law?"

Baby 5 nodded her head once, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. "Yeah, and Law seems really… out of it. He's all weird."

Doflamingo nodded as he turned around, fingers caressing over the feathers of the coat that lay on the back of a mahogany chair. "Have Law come here, and tell Corazon I'll talk to him later." Doflamingo's smile widened on his face at the thought of Law and their recent night together. He could almost taste Law on his lips, and he licked at ther corners of his mouth expectantly.

.

.

.

.

Corazon, Law noticed in the better light, was a splitting image of Doflamingo, though with different hair and fashion style — if the fluttery coat was excluded, and Law did his best to ignore the fluffy monstrosity of clothing.

They had reached the ship with surprising ease that Law couldn't trust, and boarded it with just as much easiness that made Law uneasy.

He, the leper of society, boarding the ship with people that could be royalties for all he knew — while he wasn't one to care for the differences in social status, he was afraid.

Afraid that he wouldn't be safe there either.

Even the fact that Corazon was a clumsy (and creepy with the silent treatment) bastard didn't take the prickles of anxiety away, and he absently watching Corazon set his coat on fire _twice_ while boarding the goddamn ship. It was funny, really; everyone else laughed — Baby 5 and Diamante and all the others did, really — but Law couldn't find it in himself to even chuckle at Corazon's misfortune.

Now that he was inside the ship, where no one would kill him — well, Doflamingo himself at least wouldn't —, the anxiety was burning out and turning into weariness that went beyond simple physical strain. The damage was done. He wouldn't be able to return to his apartment. Jack, the dealer, knew his address, and that would undoubtedly be raided first.

"Law," Baby 5 murmured to him after skipping back from wherever she had gone to — he hadn't particularly noticed her leave before — and he tilted his head as a sign that he was listening.

"Young master wants to see you."

Young master meant Doflamingo, Law's mind cleared that for him, and Law felt unease curl up tighter inside him as Baby 5's hand brushed his neck, over the white spots and effectively startled him.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Law grunted as he pushed her hand away, the touch tingling on his skin like a burn mark, and hurried off to the corridor Doflamingo's room was located. It was easy to ignore the murmurs from the others, but it was harder to ignore the feeling of Corazon's eyes on his back, curiosity in the dim eyes burning holes to Law's skin.

Law entered Doflamingo's quarters without knocking or any other pre-warning. The door had been open, which was an invitation enough for him to come in, that's what he figured.

"Doflamingo," he said hoarsely, hands stiff by his sides as he stepped over the threshold into the vast, luxurious room that felt as intimate as the day before when Doflamingo's hands had roamed around Law's body with unrestricted freedom.

Doflamingo was sitting on the couch, clearly waiting for Law, and Law's eyes trailed down as he took in the sight of the towel around Doflamingo's waist and the broad expanse of bare skin above the towel, muscles rippling with the tiniest movements.

"Law," Doflamingo's familiar voice put Law at ease, the fear back to its place in the far corners of his mind, "you came."

Law took a breath, hesitating as Doflamingo's fingers wriggled for Law to come to him. The worries and anxiety from earlier made Law obey the wordless demand silently, and he didn't protest when he was pulled over to Doflamingo's lap, ignoring even the skin-on-skin heat Doflamingo was fond of.

He closed his eyes when Doflamingo's lips brushed against a pulse point at his neck, right where one of the white spots lay. Law's fingers clutched at Doflamingo's shoulders, and there was a question on his mind — _were you serious when you asked me to come with you?_


	8. not a way into my heart

A/N: Finishing this up has been a struggle... but here. It's more of "almost smut but not really" kind of thing. (Also, thank you very much for your encouraging reviews, they have made my days!)

* * *

><p><strong>Runaway Train<strong>

chapter VIII

_not a way into my heart_

* * *

><p>If there was one thing he especially liked about Doflamingo, it was the man's ability to make him take his mind off of life and its rocky waves.<p>

Doflamingo had done it many times before, after all — methods varied each time, and while Law was hardly someone easily excited, he appreciated them and purposely fell to Doflamingo's advances each and every time.

Right now, too, he appreciated the feeling of Doflamingo's lips moving against his throat in a slow dance across the skin, teeth barely meeting Law's neck. Law's half-lidded eyes stared up at the ceiling, not seeing much of anything as he consciously focused on the feeling of Doflamingo's touches — the lips on his throat and neck, the hand on the back of his thigh and the other trailing up his back, and the physical sensations were more than enough a distraction from the haunting feeling that prickled at the back of his mind.

(He had been found out. The marks. He was being hunted this very moment.)

"Law," Doflamingo's low murmur sent a shiver down Law's spine, one that he didn't show, as he draped an arm over Doflamingo's shoulder, wordlessly encouraging him.

A hand sneaked below Law's hoodie, stroking and feeling up Law's bony back, fingers running over the spine.

Law closed his eyes fully now, embracing the warmth Doflamingo's hands sent through him, and allowed himself to sink a little lower on the other's lap, not clueless to the fact Doflamingo was practically naked as the only thing covering him was the towel that kept sliding down lower as Law's legs shifted over Doflamingo's.

He never flinched, even as Doflamingo's teeth gnawed at a hickey from the previous night, but his lips parted, an inaudible sigh floating out. His hands rubbed at Doflamingo's shoulder and shoulder blades, feeling the hot dampness that told him Doflamingo had been in a bath before — though the towel had revealed that as well.

Doflamingo raised his head, lips detaching from Law's neck, and the shades glinted as he looked at Law, who could feel the imploring gaze rest on his face. A silent question, which might soon turn into a vocal one if Law did nothing to stop it.

Eyes opening halfway, he looked back at Doflamingo's face, his breath stuttering past his lips as he tried to calm himself, dark hands moving to the other's neck, fingers twitching as he brought them to fine-structured cheeks and tilted Doflamingo's head down a bit.

The man made no comment or move to stop Law, the hand that rested on the small of the younger man's back remaining completely still. Law's heart thumped against his chest, his fingers twitched on Doflamingo's skin, and—

Law leaned over, the moment of hesitance over and done with, and with eyes closed, he pressed his lips against Doffy's. One hand remaining on the cheek of the man, the other went to the back of Doffy's neck as Law shifted into a comfortable position on Doffy's lap, hips twitching as his thighs settled over Doffy's.

The low noise of satisfaction from Doffy made Law's skin crawl in the way that was very different from the hair-raising anxiety earlier, and Law's lips smiled mildly, in relief, against the thick, ever-grinning ones. Relief from receiving no questions, no interrogation, was overwhelming, and Law dove into the kiss hard and wanting, humming his approval when Doflamingo raised his hips just enough to push himself against Law the right way.

"Shirts off," Doflamingo breathed against Law's lips, tugging at the coal-black hoodie Law was sweating in, and Law gave a curt nod, raising his arms off Doflamingo and assisting the man in taking the thick fabric off of himself. The hoodie came off easily, and Doflamingo threw it carelessly over the couch while Law peeled the t-shirt off next, just as carelessly abandoning it somewhere behind him.

Doflamingo shot him a look, and Law fought the urge to fidget, the anxiety renewing as Doflamingo's hand wandered over the white spots scattered across his stomach and abs while the other hand rested at Law's hip.

"Doflamingo-" Law began, voice hoarser than he would have liked, but Doflamingo shook his head, a reproachful expression painted on his face as he moved the hand to Law's face, brushing his thumb over Law's wet lips.

"I thought we had progressed past that state," Doflamingo murmured fondly, thumb running over Law's bottom lip, teasing the mouth to open with a prod of the finger as his other hand pulled Law against his broad chest, the towel all but fallen by this point. "It's _Doffy_ to you, Law."

"Doffy," Law corrected himself softly, his mind pleasantly numb when Doflamingo took the thumb away from his lips, replacing the thumb with lips just as he bucked his hips against Law, the quick brush of their crotches enough to make Law gasp soundlessly against Doflamingo's larger, greedier mouth. Things escalated from there quickly: Doflamingo's tongue moved into Law's mouth while hands continued their exploration of Law's body, eventually moving down to cup Law's groin. Law bucked against the hand, impatience roughing his movement, while pushing his tongue to meet Doflamingo's in their wet, connected mouths.

A hand tugged at the waistband of Law's pants, insistent in its intention to get them off and Law agreed, wriggling as two hands tugged the pants down.

Law was glad about the distraction Doflamingo was able to provide him; it was as close to indulging himself as he could now that he couldn't pay for the drugs that took the edge off his deteriorating mentality.

The sense of relief that bloomed in his chest was about as strong as the arousal that came in hot waves between their kissing, Doflamingo's hands stripping him and Law wriggling out of his pants awkwardly but without breaking the lip contact.

He moaned, the sound as quiet as ever, but Doflamingo picked up on it, and hands brought Law closer, their bare groins pressing together in a moment of unadulterated lust.

Doflamingo broke the kiss, breathing heavily against Law's warmed-up lips. "I didn't think you were the type to go commando, Law," he whispered, a smug smile on his face that made Law's skin tingle and heat up.

"Lost my boxers last night," Law muttered, "so I didn't bother."

Doflamingo laughed, the sound low and bordering on _soft_. The intimacy between them, right then, was almost overwhelming, with Law on Doflamingo's lap and the other's hands caressing him slowly, not entirely for sexual purposes.

"I like it," Doflamingo decided, long tongue flicking at Law's lower lip. "You should do that more often."

Law snorted, but his lips rose into a smile — nearly sincere. "Give me a reason enough to, and I might consider it."

It was at that time, when Law started to lean over to kiss Doflamingo again, that the door to the room opened with an audible creak. _Fuck_, he hadn't locked it, Law realized, utterly mortified as he knew the large blotches of white were glaringly obvious on his dark skin, and he was—

"Corazon," Doflamingo greeted the man with ease unnatural for the situation as Law felt his insides squeeze with what seemed like panic, the fear from before returning tenfold as he went rigid on Doflamingo's lap.

Corazon, as the man had been called, made a gesture towards outside the door, and gave Doflamingo a long, steady look, not uttering a word.

Doflamingo craned his neck, some reluctance apparent as he gripped Law a bit harder, but as Corazon showed no intention of leaving, the man pulled himself away from Law by lifting the younger man off his lip, whispering a "wait for me, Law" before snatching a bathrobe from the bathroom and leaving with Corazon.

The silence the closing of the door left behind was deafening.

He had been _seen_, fully, by the other man, now, and Law's breathing stuttered and stumbled, his lungs full of something other than air as his hands tumbled down his chest, touching the curls of white that blemished his skin.

Doflamingo had so far been the only one to have seen all the marks; Doflamingo had been the only one Law had allowed to, when it had become clear the man didn't give a fuck if he had cancer or some other terminall illness that wasn't contagious.

Before he could give into the full weight of his worries, he heard a low whistle, accompanied by vibrations against something. _Oh._ Law climbed down the couch to get to his pants and pulled his phone out clumsily, nearly dropping it twice from his clammy hands.

_Get a grip, _he told himself, annoyed with his own inability to function simply because he was— practically forced to leave his _home_, his _memories_— his destined _grave_, but that was a thought he filed under the "shit to not think about" -things.

"Penguin?" he murmured to the phone once it was clear that it was a call rather than a text message. "Things got a bit complicated."

"_You tell me,"_ Penguin huffed from his end of the line, breathing heavy and sounds of rain loud on the background. "_I'm trying to get to the train station, since the next one's leaving in… twenty minutes, but fucking taxis, man. Nowhere to be seen."_

"That's alright," Law murmured as he stared at the closed door, just in case Doflamingo and his subordinate would return. "Look, Penguin, I… might not get to the town soon. I'm on a ship." He took a breath, choosing his next words carefully. "The guy I've been seeing on occasion, he has a ship."

"_Holy crap,"_ Penguin whistled. "_You hit the gold mine, man."_

Law smiled, glad that Penguin was accepting of his flexible preferences. There were not many in his life that were as broad-minded. "Well, when I say 'seeing'—" he trailed off, scratching his neck sheepishly, "—I mean casual sex."

"_Yeah, I get that,"_ Penguin said, "_you don't seem the relationship-type, no offense."_

Law laughed; Penguin was right about that. "Yeah, I'm really not," he admitted, and the weight inside his chest grew lighter with Penguin's easygoing talk. "But, about our rendezvous… it really will take a while, since I'm not entirely sure about the course of the ship. And regardless, the trip to the town from the closest harbor is a rather tenuous one, as well."

"_Don't worry about that, really," _Penguin's smile was audible in his voice. "_The one time you ask for my help? Of course I'd help. Waiting's not an issue, and, well— I heard the girls are cute."_

Law sighed in weary exasperation, but unexpected fondness warmed his heart. After realizing the truth six years ago — about the corrupted city and even filthier doctors — he had refused to open up to people, but Penguin and Shachi were exceptions, and this was one of the moments he realized just how lucky he was to still have someone trust and care for him unquestionably, even though Penguin knew nothing about his illness.

"All about the girls, huh, Penguin," he chuckled, warmness seeping into his voice despite himself. "Have fun while waiting for me, then."

"_Yeah, but hey, when we see each other.. Let's have a good party, Cap'n."_

"Naturally," Law agreed, resting his head on the palm of his hand as his smile widened.

Friendships, he had come to realize, could be just as powerful as any bond between family.

* * *

><p>"You got the money from them?" Doflamingo raised an eyebrow at Corazon, his flesh and blood, who nodded in response but whose eyes kept shifting back towards the door leading to Doflamingo's quarters.<p>

How curious.

"You curious about Law?" Doflamingo decided that asking straight away was for the best, for both of them. "I was told you brought him to the ship."

Corazon — Roci — nodded, not as firmly as before, and scribbled something on the notepad he always carried with him just in case. _I met up with him on the way here,_ was written on the note Corazon showed him before jotting down some more notes. _He was on the run from the local police, I think. _

Doflamingo took the information in calmly. That explained the shakiness that had radiated off of Law back there — his time was up, at least if Law's reactions were anything to go by, and if Doflamingo played his cards right, Law would be coming to Dressrosa with them.

The thought made the blond's lips stretch into a little too big a smile, and Corazon's brow wrinkled in confusion.

"I see," Doflamingo crooned, and the heat in his lower stomach curled in pleasure at the thought of Law always being available from now on. These godawful trips to the White City would _finally_ fucking end, especially now that Cora had leeched the money out of the small fry. "Well, at least he has no reason to stay here anymore."

_He's the one you've been coming to these parts for?_ Corazon showed the notepad again, and Doflamingo shrugged rather flippantly, uncaring as his bathrobe slid down a little bit.

"You're not _jealous_, are you, brother dearest?" he asked smugly, eyes crinkling behind the narrow shades that stayed on his face no matter where he went. "You did, ah, disturb us."

Cora seemed to bit down on the butt of his cigarette a lot harder now, and Doflamingo raised an eyebrow rather smugly. Well, he doubted it was jealousy over _Law_ — Cora hadn't met him before today — so perhaps his little brother was jealous of Doflamingo's attention shifting to Law.

(Highly unlikely, since Cora was 39 by now, by all means over the petty jealousy brothers sometimes felt over one another, but Doflamingo found the thought rather endearing, if laughable.)

_Are you sure it's a good thing to take someone as broken as him with us?_

Of course Corazon had such an insightful view on a person he had barely met, Doflamingo mused with an indulgent sort of amusement as he thought back to the Law he had first met in that dirty old bar on the outskirts of the City.

The sullen, withdrawn man hadn't drawn Doflamingo's attention at first, but eventually his eyes had stopped on Law, who had gulped down his third vodka shot by then. His whole posture had been very unwelcoming; shoulders slumped, spine stiff, expression closed off and guarded, like there was no one he could trust in the world.

The same kind of thirst from that night now returned to his mouth, and Doflamingo's gaze inadvertently shifted to the door behind which Law waited for him, naked and anxious.

"You know me, Roci," he murmured, smile flippant but nearly soft around the edges, "how could I abandon him now?"

Corazon hid his eyes from view, but his thoughts were obvious enough, not that Doflamingo particularly minded what his brother thought about his activities with Law. It wasn't anyone else's business but his, anyhow; a private indulgence.

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><p>Law hung up on Penguin just when Doflamingo strutted back in, the bathrobe untied already, and the younger man didn't see the point of wearing it if it would be left untied, but Doflamingo was peculiar when it came to clothes.<p>

"Calling someone?" the intimidatingly tall man tilted his head questioningly, and Law nodded barely as Doflamingo approached the couch leisurely with an easy smile on his wide lips. Law's eyes trailed down the bare skin revealed beneath the bathrobe, and as much as he had told himself (again and again) that Doflamingo was nothing but a distraction for him from his anxieties and fears, he couldn't deny the attraction he felt this instant as he watched Doflamingo in his glorious red silk bathrobe, broad and well-built body revealed beneath the fabric.

Perhaps the relief, fear and everything else came out as a hormonal rush, Law wondered.

"A friend of mine," he said simply when Doflamingo had sat down on the couch again, hands already tugging Law back to his former place on the man's lap. "An _online_ friend of mine," he added in a huff when Doflamingo's eyebrows went up on his brow. "I never said I didn't have any, Dofl— Doffy."

The man laughed, obnoxiously, at that, but Law didn't quite mind as Doflamingo quickly rectified it with a kiss to his shoulder and a mockingly playful nudge. "Now, that's something that could make a man like me jealous, Law," Doflamingo's deep voice rumbled against Law's skin, and Law gave a shudder as the vibrations trailed on his skin.

"I don't do cyber sex, if that's your concern," Law breathed out, eyelids fluttering as he gave into the pleasure of Doflamingo's lips on his skin. Perhaps he was giving into Doffy too much, with the nickname and the intimacy, but Law would probably hardly see Doflamingo once he was out of the City.

Now, that brought a thought to mind — would Doffy let him have his way?

Ah, shit.

Well, it had been obvious he'd have to ask it at some point, since Doflamingo would be too quick to draw unfortunate conclusions if he didn't say anything.

"Good," Doflamingo murmured against Law's neck between the kisses and nibbles, "I'd feel terrible if you cheated on me like that."

Law would have laughed sardonically if he hadn't been flipped over right then, back pressed against the couch now and Doflamingo weighing down on him. "But you wouldn't do that," Doflamingo crooned, breathless and playful, against Law's ear, "would you, Law?"

Law struggled to breathe, his lips curving into a matching smirk. "Oh, I don't know. Your character leaves a lot of room for improvement."

Doflamingo laughed, but Law knew there was a line he shouldn't cross, and maybe he was pushing it now — with joking and mocking Doffy like this, he could fall into the habit dangerously quickly.

"So you say, but yours isn't much better," Doffy murmured, losing interest in their mouth off and gaining more in locking their lips together as he reacquainted his hands with Law's body, fingers pressing greedily into Law's skin, and Law returned the favor with equal fervor, his previous conversation with Penguin nearly forgotten.

_Fuck it,_ Law thought as his hand gripped at Doffy's short hair, directing the mouth on his into a better angle, _it can wait for an hour or two. _


	9. E is for the Ecstasy

**A/N:** Ok, _this_ is as far as I get to full-blown sex scene, since it's been a long time from the last time I tried writing any. (It's still pretty detailed, so uh... here's to hope this won't be deleted haha.)

More of an interlude than anything (and much shorter than usual, but I thought it ended on a fairly decent note, so), but_next_ chapter we'll get to see some stuff happening, okay. Probably.

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><p><strong>Runaway Train<strong>

chapter IX

_E is for the Ecstasy_

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><p>"—ngh!" Law's head hit the arm of the couch hard enough for black spots to flash at the corners of his field of vision, and a visible wince spread to his face, but which Doflamingo ignored for most part as he was far more focused in settling himself into Law's body.<p>

This part was always the most difficult one, physically speaking — Law was slim and smaller in every way to Doflamingo, so while well-lubed, penetration always took time to get used to, and Law's ragged breathing reflected the effort he put into staying as relaxed and open as possible to Doflamingo's movement.

The thought that they should have moved to the bed when Doflamingo had fetched the lube re-emerged in his mind, but Doflamingo had had none of that, the appeal of couch sex too immense to be ignored.

And _god forbid_ but Law sort of agreed, the cramped place kind of enticing as there was simply no room for them to separate from each other, their sweaty bodies pressed against one another in an intimate embrace, Doflamingo's hands gripping Law's hip and the back of a thigh as he waited for Law to grow accustomed to the feeling of the man inside him.

Law's breath stuttered, wheezing out puffs of air, and his chest rose shakily with his breaths as he buried his face into the crook of the other's neck, nose nuzzling against the lightly tanned skin of the man that nearly classified as a lover — if only there was love in this relationship.

Doflamingo hummed, the sound coming out from the depths of his throat, as he leaned his cheek against the sweaty mop that was Law's hair, the gesture filled with affection the man often gave Law when it wasn't outright rejected. Whether it was genuine or not was hard for Law to tell — so unused to affection these days, Law treated it with suspicion most of the time.

But those starved of affection tended to eventually accept anything as a substitute, and Law, too, was like this.

Law took a deep breath, chest heaving against Doflamingo's hovering body, giving a distinct nod against the other's neck to let him know he was ready for Doflamingo to move.

"You know the word, Law," Doflamingo crooned, but his voice was tight with tension, clearly wanting to move himself within Law, but he had never been a man that was above making people beg for what he wanted to do anyway. What he was going to do anyway.

"Dream on," Law groaned, lips quivering despite himself as he tilted his head away from the inviting neck and glared up at Doflamingo's shades that had never once been removed during their time together. Usually Doflamingo wouldn't get him to beg, but now — Law grudgingly admitted to himself — there was a chance, and the blond probably saw that. Opportunistic as always, the bastard.

Doflamingo's smirk, wide and attractively enticing, made Law's heart skip a beat. "Law," his voice was low, lower than his usual baritone, "don't test my patience." A promise of something equally good and equally bad echoed from those words, and Law probably wasn't masochistic enough to want to find out.

Nevertheless, Law's cock twitched between them, that part of him more eager than he himself was, and Doflamingo's ever-growing air of smugness said he had noticed the wantonness.

"_Please_," Law grunted between gritted teeth, feeling sweat drops on his brow roll down. "_Doffy_," he added for good measure, forcing himself to husk the nickname out in the way he knew Doflamingo appreciated — breathless, wanton, a little defiant.

The effect was immediate: Doflamingo's nostrils flared, breath halted just for the briefest moment, and the blond swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing appreciatively.

That brief moment was all Doflamingo gave Law before he abruptly moved his hips, nearly pulling out of Law before moving back in, the movement sharp and too quick, and Law's nails dug into the muscular back as a hiss left his lips. The pain wasn't abrupt and sharp, but slow and dull, and perhaps Law was a little masochistic after all as he gave a low moan only meant for Doflamingo to hear.

A low hum from Doflamingo, and Law gasped when the action repeated itself — the thick cock sliding within him up and then down again, the sensation sending goosebumps over Law's skin as he buried his face into Doflamingo's neck again, one arm draped around the man's neck as the other lay on a shoulder blade.

Doflamingo nuzzled at his temple, the gesture dripping with affection that contrasted the sharp thrust that made Law tremble in a way he quite hadn't before.

Something in their relationship was shifting, and the feeling was so strong that it was almost palpable in the air he wheezed in through his nose.

The way Doflamingo's touch tingled on his skin was new, as was the way Law buckled himself against Doflamingo in a less than precise movement, his usual control over himself slipping little by little. (Frustrating as it was, the slip of control had happened the previous night as well; this was on the dangerous road of becoming a habit.)

It was— Law didn't want to acknowledge anything was changing, but the stark contrast between their past rendezvouses and this time was too glaring to be left unacknowledged, even though denial worked for Law pretty well around seventy-six percent of the time.

Law breathed in Doflamingo's scent — something fruity, but something muskier mixed in, something Law's nose wasn't used to — and a lone shiver crawled up his spine as Doflamingo's hand crept down from his hip to the ass cheeks, squeezing appreciatively before moving up to the small of Law's back, lifting Law up a bit as he switched the angle for thrusts.

What did it say about Law that he felt the exact placement of each individual finger there with sharp precision?

To say that Law consciously wondered about such would be a lie, because the moment was too intense for any coherent line of thought, but there was that feeling of something changing if he went through with this, if he allowed Doflamingo to take him like this.

His head lolled down from the shoulder he had previously buried his nose to, his neck now pressing against the couch arm once more at a very awkward, slightly painful angle. Doflamingo didn't give him time to move into a more comfortable position, lips capturing Law's into a fiercely hungry kiss — as though he was starving for them, like the few moments that had passed between this and the last kiss had been far too long.

The intensity at which Doflamingo's lips drowned his own pair was frightening — and addictive, at the same time, and Law's heart thumped ridiculously faster as he entangled his fingers into the blond's short hair, tugging the man closer _closer __**closer **_just as the man went deeper _deeper __**deeper**_ into Law, who was left wanting for more.

Law pushed his hips up in an attempt to rub himself against Doflamingo, to ease the tension that grew between his legs, but it was hard when his ass wasn't connected to the couch and spine was slightly bent to accommodate the position. The couch didn't leave much room for changing positions either, though given that it was Doflamingo's, the piece of furniture was larger than any couch Law had ever owned in his entire life.

Doflamingo smirked into the kiss, but didn't say anything as his tongue talked for him by coaxing Law's lips to part and give it entrance.

Law's moan was only partially muffled by the larger mouth on his, and nothing could hide the trembling shiver that shook him when Doflamingo's cock hit the spot Law hadn't known to be so sensitive before this night.

Sex wasn't anything new to him, and he knew his body well enough from his own experiences, but— it had been a long time since he had been _this_ into it; it had been long since anyone had been able to physically affect him to this level.

A hormonal imbalance would explain a lot, perhaps, but the denials soon left him when Doflamingo's pace sped up, the man finally done with the first act, and Law groaned incoherently against Doflamingo's lips, the feeling of running out of air almost erotic as much as it was urgent.

As though keeping himself together hadn't been hard enough before this, but now the rest of Doflamingo's restraints to ensure that Law wasn't hurt snapped off like a dry stick stepped on.

Law broke the kiss first, desperately needing air, but he wasn't the only breathless person as Doflamingo too was catching his breath, harsh puffs of air tickling at Law's damp skin.

Words weren't needed to let Doflamingo know when Law was getting closer to his climax — the wet, stiff cock between them was enough a hint — and Doflamingo's hand finished the job, though Law much preferred the hand where it had been before at his hip.

Regardless, the pent-up ecstacy came out of him with a muffled groan that nearly bordered on a scream — losing in decibels to most, but Doflamingo seemed to receive much gratification from the sounds he had torn from someone as quiet as Law.

Law collapsed fully onto the couch again, the last twitches of his cock spreading the white substance over both his stomach and Doflamingo's hand, his back arching meekly as Doflamingo gave a few good thrusts to get himself off as well — _no condom this time either_, the realization struck Law with familiar unease. His illness was contagios, wasn't transmitted by bodily fluids, but there was something incoherently filthy about it.

Perhaps it was his self-loathing, or perhaps—

His uneasiness was cut off when Doflamingo fell on him — not hard, but controlledly — and settled himself over Law's body with a few cat-like wriggles that made Law's now too sensitive skin tingle.

"This was extremely uncomfortable," Law complained once he had regained his senses and the ability to talk without his voice breaking into a soft whine at random parts whenever Doflamingo shifted inside him, not yet having pulled out.

"Fufufu," the all too familiar laughter was breathed against the shell of his ear, and against his wishes, Law shivered. "You really have no clue about the pillow talk, do you?"

"These cushions are hardly comparable to pillows," Law bit out, but his voice held no real fight to them and he made no struggle to get himself off from Doflamingo or to push the man away, like he usually would at this point. It might be the couch's fault; the lack of space was stifling — though he hadn't had any qualms about pushing Doffy off of his bed in the past.

Doflamingo's smile touched the crook of Law's neck, lips brushing against a pulse point. Law's heart sped up rather foolishly, but Law knew the Syndrome in its later periods tended to affect the heart as much as kidneys and liver.

But this was not the time for that thought.

"Don't be a spoilsport, Law," Doffy hummed, the sound low, as his fingers idly kept tracing Law's skin, over the dips and white spots. Law was reluctant to note the affections the simple movement held, but whether it was because Doflamingo's further interest in him would only end in trouble for him or something else was… questionable.

Disregarding this line of thought, Law simply allowed himself to sink into the affections freely thrown at him, his lips curling up in mild amusement. "You just had plenty of fun. Wouldn't want to spoil you rotten…"

"Pf— fufufu," Doflamingo's chuckles vibrated against Law's skin, the sensation a welcome distraction as the afterglow receded slowly. "You're far more talkative than usual, Law," he noted, nuzzling playfully against Law's cheek, and there was contented surprise in Doffy's tone that made Law's stomach flutter uneasily.

"And you're far less obnoxious," Law retorted as he finally made an effort to move his head away from Doflamingo's intrusive nose.

"Sharp-tongued as always," Doflamingo cackled, pressing a few kisses to the shell of Law's ear, the warm flush that spread up Law's neck not going unnocited by him either.

This was edging to the dangerous areas again, Law mulled solemnly to himself when he tugged Doflamingo by the neck, aligning both their mouths for a brief kiss he wasn't usually inclined to give post-sex.

It was quick, no longer then a few seconds, but the warmth of their connected lips was very real, very comfortable.

And of course Doffy wouldn't be satified with a brief kiss like that, but he went for another when Law pulled away, this one more fierce and heated, though with no intention of starting up another round of couch sex.

Law made a sound that wasn't a protest against the other's mouth, his hand moving up to Doflamingo's hair and fingers threaded through the short, clipped blond hair, which had been the first sign that the man wasn't from the City when they had first met.

"Mmm," Law hummed mildly against the warm mouth, tilting his head for another angle. His fingers idly stroked at the back of Doffy's head, something akin to fondness swelling inside his heart. A warped kind of fondness for their not particularly healthy relationship, but it was as close to the real deal as it could possibly get.

It was disconcerting, to say the least, but if luck was with him, he'd be out of Doflamingo's sphere of influence faster than he had thought possible, depending on Penguin's help, naturally.

The right wording of his request was slowly building itself together in his mind, even as he busied himself with the taste of Doflamingo's lips, nibbling them back lazily, ignoring the fact they still lay on the couch entangled in each other, sweat and semen slickening their skin.

No one walked in on them this time, however, and for that Law was grateful — if not for the sake of his own pride, then for the sake of the moment he shared with the other man.

Doflamingo was, after all, just as good a distraction as the drug-containing sugar cubes had been.


	10. baby, when the clock strikes 12

**A/N:** Apologies for the delay of this chapter! I have been dealing with some issues (motivation, school, the holidays), so this took waaaay too long, but here it is! I hope you guys had a merry Christmas, and let's hope for a good 2015!

Thank you for all the reviews, faves and alerts, I appreciate them all.

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><p><strong>Runaway Train<strong>

chapter X

_baby, when the clock strikes 12_

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_._

_._

Law couldn't sleep that night, which wasn't anything unusual, even despite the physical exercise his body had gone through a couple hours prior to this moment. Now that the euphoria had worn off, he had more time to dwell on everything that had happened, and most of all, more time to plan what to do from there on out.

The surge of panic that kept circling him from afar hadn't overtaken Law, perhaps due to the warmth encircling him, and for that he was glad, though the heat pressing against him was a complication, a distraction where he needed concentration.

Telling Doflamingo that he'd get off the ship little ways from the City probably wouldn't do much good, he realized now as the said man's arms lay around him, possessive even in a subconscious state. While Doflamingo had been the only one he knew could help him escape, Law wasn't so sure Doffy would do it on his terms — rather, the man would act according to his own agenda, which at some point had seemed to be about getting Law to join him in Dressrosa.

Law pursed his lips, the thought of meeting Penguin making him restless in the other man's grasp, and stared at the ceiling with hardened eyes. His earlier panic had perhaps made him give instructions to Penguin too early; it'd be easier to run off when they'd arrive in Dressrosa.

But he didn't like that idea either — he knew Dressrosa was Doflamingo's home, and that undoubtedly was to his disadvantage when he'd try to leave. And where would he leave from Dressrosa, in the first place? It took a few days to even get there from the White City by ship — there weren't any trains going in or out of the City, either, so water was basically the only route to the outside world.

Law sighed as Doflamingo shifted behind him, the arms loosening around his abdomen as the larger man's head burrowed against the side of Law's neck. He didn't move more than that, and Law relaxed again despite the tickling sensation that went up his skin.

Law waited for another few minutes, listening to the deep breaths of the other man, and the silence was thick around them, as thick as the layers Law had constructed around his heart. (Ones that shouldn't be allowed to crumble at any cost.)

Eventually, eyelids fell to cover the weary gaze, but sleep was far from Law's reach as his mind kept him awake long into the small hours.

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Corazon hadn't slept much that night, mostly because he had been out for the greater part of it. It wasn't like he cared much for whatever trouble the young man, Law, had gotten himself into, but those marks on his skin had told Corazon enough — but more importantly, he had noticed the fear that had shown in the rigidness of Law's muscles when he had walked in on the scene between his brother and Law.

Now, as he lit a cigarette while hiding himself in one of the alleys the sun refused to shine to, he just felt bad — but Law probably felt worse, he figured as he chewed on the butt of the cigarette stick.

The City was in chaos — everyone talked about 'the one with the Syndrome' — and anxiety ruled over logic.

Corazon took a drag, the pleasant burn in his lungs familiar, as he listened to the sirens echo in the distance. Police were involved, naturally, and the man's thickly painted face shifted into a grimace.

From his past experiences, he knew well the police were corrupt — much more than anywhere else, though corruption was not limited to the cracked white streets of Flevance, the lesser known name of the pale-colored city.

But this was certainly the place the world would look upon with arrogant disdain and disapproval, pretending to be fairer than Flevance while only having a better facade to prove their innocence. Corazon sighed at the thought — the atmosphere of the city was that of paranoia, fear that had been festering for years, and just one rumor was enough to crumble the delicate peace that had settled between the city folk.

If drug deals, murders in broad daylight, and wages below the minimum limit were anything like peace, anyhow.

Corazon shook his head, dumed the cigarette and extinguished it with a stomp of a heel, staggering only for a moment as he ventured off towards the renowned White University, the name lacking in imagination as well as grandeur.

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Law woke up to the feeling of Doflamingo's lips trailing languid patterns across his skin, over the shoulders and down the side of his jaw. His mind foggy from the little sleep he got, Law merely sighed and tilted his head until his throat was exposed as an open invitation.

The other graciously accepted the invitation, a low rumbling chuckle vibrating against Law's bare throat, and moved his lips along the curve of the neck before attaching to the nearly still Adam's apple. Law's eyes fluttered shut, a shallow gulp shifting his Adam's apple when Doflamingo's teeth nipped at the skin with obvious intentions.

The early morning thoughtlessness was freeing, in a way, and it was a luxury he only got with Doflamingo — that itself was an implication regarding their relationship's direction, and Law felt his stomach sink at the thought.

That this could be even called a relationship was, in itself, was bad — terrible, horrifying, every synonym would just about describe it.

"Good morning," he rasped out, swallowing when a tongue rubbed against a pulse point. Lips turned upwards, the movement tickling Law's skin, followed by a playful bite. "Ngh, Doffy…"

"Good morning," Doflamingo laughed against his skin, nose nuzzling underneath Law's chin. The gesture was—

"You're leaving marks again," Law sighed, tugging at the short-cropped hair with his fingers. "Stop that." Though, the bruises might cover some of the white, so not everything was bad about the lust-ridden affection.

Doflamingo treated him like he was someone — a human, a man, a lover — despite the truth, and as degrading as the kindness in this particular relationship felt, Law appreciated it in the most innermost part of his heart.

"Fufufu," Doflamingo laughed, "you have not minded that before." A large palm tucked itself beneath Law's head, fingers threading through the matted hair. Doflamingo detached his lips from Law's throat and raised his head until Law's eyes met with pale blue irises, and everything he might have wanted to say before evaporated from his mind.

Being left speechless was another thing Law loathed.

"Well," Law slowly tasted his own lips as he regained his coherency, "you overstep the boundaries so often, maybe I need to come up with new ones." A lazy smirk curled the corners of his lips upward, and Doflamingo took that as another implied invitation and leaned in for a kiss, icy blue eyes open to gauge Law's reactions.

Law returned the gaze, yellow eyes narrow and pupils dilated, as he tilted his head back, parting his lips accordingly for the invasive tongue. The kiss was by no means soft — Doflamingo didn't _do_ soft — but there was tenderness in each brush of their lips, barely concealed in the smirks playing on their faces.

Law pulled away first, as far away from Doffy's lips as possible — an inch or perhaps two — and eyelids fluttered with the effort to open them.

"You're not wearing your shades," Law observed, this time vocally, voice flat as his fingers trailed up the side of Doffy's forehead. "What's the occasion?" His thumb brushed at the corner of Doflamingo's eye, and Law's brow wrinkled. Doffy had had the shades on a few hours prior to this moment, he was sure of it — last night, before falling asleep, Law had seen them on the other's face.

"Time and place for everything, dear Law," Doflamingo hummed, tilting his head toward the touch of Law's fingers, an easy smile displayed on his lips. "We're on my territory now."

_Don't remind me,_ Law thought, lips falling back to a neutral expression. The shades didn't particularly matter, but he felt uneasy nonetheless. "When are you planning to disembark?" He absent-mindedly rubbed his thumb against the back of Doflamingo's head, heart thumping anxiously as he wondered how the hell he should get away from the ship and the crew long enough to get to Penguin if Doflamingo accepted what he had in mind.

"In a day, two at latest," the man hummed in response, blue eyes shifting to catch Law's. There was something electrifying in the gleam of his eyes, something commanding and transfixing.

It would be easy to let himself go and live in the moment without thinking, without control…

"I thought you had no business here anymore," Law drawled, eyelids sliding halfway down as he inspected the expression on the face he had never seen fully before this moment. It was as unreadably smug as ever, only worsened by the crinkling of the startlingly blue eyes.

"Well, I am expecting a visitor today… that would be the last business I have around here for a long, long time."

"…" Perhaps Law had come at a bad time, then. "Should I…?"

"No, no," Doflamingo laughed indulgently. "Stay, and join us for lunch. I'm sure it'll be… an illuminating experience."

If there had ever been a sentence more ominous than that, Law couldn't recall.

.

.

.

"You don't have to do this, you know."

"Shut up, and keep still," Baby 5 sighed as she sucked on her lollipop with intense focus, her hands working on powdering Law's white-specked shoulders and neck. "Young master told me to help you look presentable for lunch."

He glowered at her, but didn't stop her from tilting his head down so that she could get the spots near his hairline, even if he did it with gritted teeth and wrinkled brow. "Must be quite the guest," Law grunted as she spread powder even to places the white hadn't conquered yet. Not that he could be entirely sure of that, as he hadn't checked himself in any mirror yet.

Baby 5's smile was audible in her voice. "Most of young master's guests are, you know," she hummed as she powdered his shoulders next, though there was hardly any need to in his opinion.

"I'm not," Law said mildly.

"I did say _most_, Law."

Her touch on his shoulders was gentle, almost comforting if he believed there to be such a thing in the world. Comfort, he had learned, was only ever temporary — an illusion.

Very much like this situation itself.

Law bit on his lip and closed his eyes when she continued to powder him up. They were in the galley — any moment now, someone could walk in, and witness his marks up close. The ones on his chest and back, anyhow, as Baby 5 had stripped him off of his hoodie before.

"You're coming to Dressrosa with us, aren't you?" Baby 5 asked as she finished tidying Law up, now resting her hands in his messy, ruffled up hair.

Law took a deep breath in, but said nothing as he stared at the rug spread onto the floor, which was as luxurious as the rest of the many decorations of the ship. Swirling, golden patterns on a fine fabric; perhaps a family heirloom.

The ship was much more colorful than his entire life in the present. This was an observation he had made the first time he had been to the ship. The same applied to Doflamingo himself: the man was like a flash in the night that illuminated every dark corner for a brief moment, revealing all and exposing everything before the darkness fell again.

"Law?" Baby 5 nudged at the back of his head.

"Ow!" Law flinched, turning his head to glare at her. Baby 5 merely gave him a satisfied smirk for grabbing his attention.

"The least you could do is answer to me," she said as she leaned down to fetch his shirt, dropping it on his lap afterward. "I don't understand how young master deals with your impoliteness."

"He doesn't, that's how," Law shrugged as he pulled the shirt on, feeling much more relaxed once his body was covered up in front of her again. Doffy might not mind the marks and the illness, but he wasn't so sure about her and the crew, whom he knew only superficially.

"Aren't you edgy today," Baby 5 huffed as she bit down on her lollipop, and plopped down to the closest chair. He willfully ignored her as he crossed his arms over the hoodie, its warmth a welcome change to the chilliness that had crept upon his bones during Baby 5's operation.

(But he was always cold, regardless of his clothing choices.)

Winter had come along by now, and Law couldn't remember when the first snow had hit the city, but he had a feeling it had been there for a while now. But he couldn't remember.

_Your mind's all over the place today, Law,_ he sighed at himself as he shook his head slowly, trying to drive the numb and dull feeling away from his head. His sense of time's passing was not important now, it wasn't important ever, and he should get a grip and try to figure something out like he always did during the moments of crisis.

But the sharpness of mind was not something easily retrievable after he had done everything to dull it in the past years.

Baby 5's fingers flicking at his forehead retrieved Law back to reality from the world of his own thoughts, much to his annoyance. "Can you not do that," he deadpanned, squinting at her as his lips curled down.

She looked at him far longer and far more perceptively than he would have liked, and her gaze sent a crawling sensation all over his skin, reminding Law of the humiliating exposure from the previous night.

"Look," she sighed as she sat down to the floor unceremoniously, which reminded Law of Lamie somewhat. If the thought hadn't brought back so much pain, he might have smiled — instead, his expression remained unreadable as he cast his eyes down. "Whatever's wrong, you can tell me. We're all family on this ship, and now that you're here…"

He glared at her, and this time she flinched at the dark look on his face. He didn't feel particularly bad about it — he was used to driving people away from him. The ones that weren't stubborn enough to try to stay, anyway.

"You don't have to be a jerk about it," she murmured, and it was her turn to look away as she blinked several times in attempt to keep her hurt feelings in check. Law's lips twitched in mild annoyance. He wasn't supposed to comfort her, was he?

"I don't have to, indeed," Law murmured, "that is simply what I am, however. Disappointing, isn't it?"

"Ass," Baby 5 muttered, puckering her lips into a frown as she rolled the lollipop stick between her lips.

Law's lips pulled up into a tight smirk as they lapsed into an awkward silence. As if he hadn't had enough of those in his lifetime already.

.

.

.

"You should change into something more comfortable," Doflamingo whispered to him when they passed one another, the larger man's arm reaching to wrap around Law and to hold him.

"I didn't exactly bring anything with me when I made my escape," Law said dryly, accepting the inevitability of the other's hold around him. There were only so many things he could flee from in life, and his sort-of-a-lover was not one of those. "And I don't intend to take part in your lunch date, Doflamingo."

Doflamingo clicked his tongue disapprovingly at the sound of his name, but a smirk spread over his face as he twirled Law around to press him against the wooden wall. (_Why wood,_ Law questioned, _aren't modern ships made from aluminum or something more enduring?_) The heavy weight against his chest made Law's breath stutter for one uncomfortable moment before Doflamingo distracted him by kissing his cheek, the following audible and wet sound making Law flinch.

"The name, Law, the name," Doflamingo crooned when he pulled away, raising one hand to cup Law's cheek. Shades back on, Doflamingo's eyes weren't visible, but Law practically felt the electricity burning in the other's eyes.

The other more urgent sensations were the possible splinters digging into his back.

"Don't pull the distant act on me now," Doflamingo continued as his mouth breathed hotly against Law's, a nonchalant reminder of earlier and the night before. While Law wasn't sentimental over such things, over romance, he felt his heartbeats quicken in his chest. "It's too late for that now, Law."

"Ominous," Law quipped sarcastically, pushing his arms between their bodies to wedge in some distance. "Reminds me of the horror movies I have seen."

"Oh, really now?" Doflamingo had none of it, pressing himself closer until their chests bumped and Law glowered in protest. "What part of it, exactly?"

"The villain, naturally," Law said dryly. "The murderer that's ready to chop off the limbs of the unsuspecting youth."

"You're awfully morbid today," Doflamingo laughed, amusement relaxing his facial muscles as he smiled indulgently down at the younger man. "Abstain from such crude remarks for me at lunch, though."

Law gave a shrug of his shoulders. This lunch seemed to be a big deal to Doflamingo and his business. "Only if you do something for me in return, Doffy." Yellow eyes flickered with mischief as they glanced up at the dark pink shades resting on Doffy's nose.

"Hmm?" Interested, Doffy leaned closer. "Asking for a favor? That is very unlike you."

The wording of his request was important, and Law spent a moment considering it — not too long for Doffy to notice the hesitation — before his lips curled into an easy, insincere smile. "Well, my situation is a rather…" he paused, searching for the right word, "…unstable currently, so I actually am forced to."

Besides, assuming Doflamingo's ship to even be a safe place was just too ignorant, and while Doflamingo's intentions regarding him seemed obvious, Law couldn't help but doubt himself when it came to reading the man before him.

No time for second-guessing, though.

"Indeed," Doflamingo noted agreeably, but Law sensed the shift in the atmosphere even as literally nothing changed in the other's expression. "What do you want, Law? I can offer you quite a few things, if you were to ask." The lips rose again, the smirk stretching on his face as he stared down at Law, who had never been intimidated by their height difference before this moment.

Maybe because the previous times Law had been pinned to the wall by Doflamingo had happened on his own turf, on his own terms.

He was a stranger on this ship — a stranger to be pitied for his illness, a stranger that most would consider Doflamingo's _toy _as people often tended to disregard his own free will out of the equation.

But most of all, Law believed in handling his problems on his own, and asking for help — no exchange of favors to keep the balance — felt like poison to his mouth.

However, there were certain cyanides a person had to swallow in their lifetime, and this was one of those.

"When you finally set sail," Law began, eyes intent on Doflamingo's face for any shift in the indulgent expression, "do you mind dropping me off at a certain harbor?" There was no use to pretend circling around the issue would produce anything worthwhile as a result, but Law's stomach clenched in tense anticipation and worry all the same. Hope was a fragile thing, one that he didn't hold onto much, but he knew Doflamingo knew Law was willful when times called for it.

Doflamingo said nothing for a moment, but his brow gave a twitch, a reaction to Law's words, and lips pulled down from the wide grin.

"Which harbor did you have in mind?"

The question is quiet, loaded with curiosity and tension, and Law knew disappointment when he heard it. "Punk Hazard," Law said casually, remaining still when Doffy's hand moved up and down the small of his back, rubbing thoughtfully at the concealed skin.

"Punk Hazard, huh…"

Doflamingo's lips rose into a knife-sharp smile as the man leaned back and let go of Law, his movements waddling and sudden, as though something urgent had come up in Doflamingo's head. "Quite the coincidence — we need to stop by there anyway."

"Perfect. Then you don't mind dropping me off there as well."

"Fufufu… is there something in particular you want to accomplish at Punk Hazard, Law?"

Law's lips twitched as they curled into a mischievous smirk, eyelids half-down over his yellow-specked eyes. "Arrangements."

Before the conversation got the chance to develop, they were interrupted by the sound of heels clicking against the wooden floor. Law held Doflamingo's gaze regardless, the underlying tension easing as Doflamingo's shoulders relaxed as the large hands tucked themselves into the pockets of Doffy's capri pants.

"The guest has arrived," Baby 5's breathless voice murmured, tearing Doflamingo's attention away from Law.

"Bring him to the dining room, if you would. I'll be with you shortly."

With a low murmur ("Well discuss this later,"), Doflamingo beckoned the younger man to follow his lead towards the lunch Law would later on regret agreeing to.


End file.
